Toying With My Emotions
by Ataahua
Summary: AU- Due to her parents' untimely death, A'isha must leave America behind to live with her only remaining relatives, in Egypt. Unfortunately, grieving over her tragic loss becomes a whole lot worse when a callous, young man meddles with her life. MarikOC
1. Prologue

Yes, this is a rewrite of TWME, from my old account _Rugrat247_. Only the prologue is in italics. I'm rewriting this because I adore A'isha and this story so much; I take the most pride in my ideas for this story, out of all of my fics, and I also think A'isha's personality is the most realistic one I've developed in all my fanfic writing years.

AN: This fic is set in an alternate universe timeline. There is no Battle City in this, but there are explanations for why Marik is the way he is. If you are wanting to read a fic that is set in the actual YGO-verse with Battle City, check out **_In A Name_** on the account **MManipulative33**. I coauthor that fic (an AU to this fic with A'isha and Marik) with **The Duelist's Heiress**.

So without further ado, enjoy the prologue of **Toying With My Emotions**.

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**TOYING WITH MY EMOTIONS  
By Ataahua**

**Prologue**

_A'isha listened numbly, the words like chilling bombs dropping from the ominous clouds as rain, the atmosphere cold and lingering with dejection. She gazed at the familiar officer's solemn visage as his lips spelt out words that should might as well mean the death of her, only heightening the mound of grimness, grievance and guilt that clawed savagely at her very being._

_The compassion in his eyes made him look older. Once the shattering words had left his lips, he had resorted to clenching his jaw tightly. He silently awaited a reaction that he couldn't even begin to predict, as he examined the sorry sight before him: her._

_The only reaction he received was a grim silence._

_"I'm so sorry, A'isha," the man whispered. "I truly am." A gentle hand came to rest on her bare-skinned shoulder, a sheet of goose bumps blanketing her bronze skin. "Danny was utterly horrified when he heard, too." A'isha stiffened at the mention of Officer Miller's son, her teary eyes widening in disgust and horror combined. "They were among the kindest people I knew. The last to deserve—"_

"_Danny," A'isha interrupted distantly, her tone so low it was prone to pass for a whisper. "Where is he?"_

_Officer Miller cocked a confused brow. A'isha knew that should the present situation have been non-existent, he would've thought her question was spoken with sarcasm._

"_He's still here, isn't he?" Miller queried. "He stayed behind with Lance to help you clean up?"_

_A sudden, sharp exhale of air, lungs squeezing tighter as if to choke her cold... "No..." A'isha breathed darkly, arms folded across her chest as her fingernails dug into the soft skin of her arms; the purplish grey freshly pooling upon her skin was only barely noticeable, but it would soon be as apparent as the inferno ball that rages high in the sky. "He didn't help clean up." Her cerulean blue eyes narrowed in fiery rage that was hardly detectable in her shaky tone of voice. "He made things even worse."_

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The prologue is quite short _only _because it's a prologue. I'll make sure the chapters are long. Please review and tell me what you think so far. :)


	2. Chapter 1: A New Life

"Oh my gosh. An update? This can't be real. Laura never updates." I know. I can't believe it either. It must be something to do with studying for my upcoming exams. No. 1 procrastinator right here...unfortunately. Anyway, here's the first chapter, rewritten, of **Toying With My Emotions**, which I sure hope you enjoy! /Erk—I'm rusty!

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**CHAPTER ONE  
A New Life**

Sombreness swam deep within A'isha's cerulean blue eyes as she glanced at the trolley she pushed, stacked with bags that sadly held most of her possessions. She regretted the action immediately, for the many bags only reminded her of why she was actually here, in her home country of Egypt. A'isha clenched her teeth in a seemingly frustrated manner, before her attention turned to scanning the bustling airport for her aunt and uncle. She finally spotted them sitting in a nearby waiting area.

"A'isha!" cried her aunt, as the aforementioned approached her two relatives uncomfortably. "Oh my, you've grown!" She smiled and embraced her niece in a welcoming hug.

A'isha forced an awkward smile, hesitantly accepting the hug. She wasn't very close to her aunt or her uncle and she wasn't in the best of moods anyway. But they and her daughter, Amara, seemed to be the only ones A'isha had left, and she hated it.

"Sixteen now, isn't it?" Her uncle grinned, ruffling her black, wavy locks. "And to think that the last time you were here you were only four!"

A'isha nodded half-heartedly as guilt reintroduced itself to her disgruntled mind. He had reminded her of her recent birthday, which without a doubt won first place for the _"Worst Day of A'isha's Life" _award. She sighed glumly.

"A'isha, dear—" Her aunt placed a tanned hand on her shoulder. "Are you alri—?"

"What do _you_ think, Elissa?" her uncle interrupted in an exasperated tone. "Both of her parents are dead!"

A'isha breathed out an exasperated sigh as her aunt and uncle began to argue. _Seems that was all an act of pity,_ she thought bitterly.

After a minute of people stealing glances at the couple, A'isha finally spoke up again. "So," she interrupted in an almost desperate tone. She forced an awkward grin in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Why don't we get going? I'm itching to see Amara and my new room!"

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"Oh my gosh!" Amara squealed in excitement. "A'isha, you're going to love it here!" She jumped up and down on the spot. "So many malls. So many boys: foreign _and_ native! And all of them have one thing in common." She paused for dramatic effect. "They're all smoking hot!"

A'isha flashed a small, genuine grin. "Calm down, Mar. You're going to hit the roof," she teased.

"Well I know how much you _love_ guys, and we sure dish em' out _hot_!" She laughed loudly.

The Dahar family all had loud laughs, which didn't exactly win their teacher's over. Amara was always the loud and bubbly type. She was rather similar to A'isha, except, until recently, A'isha had been a rather harsh and selfish person, whereas Amara only had a mild case, as far as A'isha was aware.

"Actually, I kind of...don't really—um—" she drawled hesitantly, before pausing to rethink her sentence. "I...I'm not really crazy about guys anymore." A recent memory slashed betrayal through her, and shattered the momentary joy she had just shared with her cousin.

"Wha—Why?" Amara's hazel eyes widened in shock. "But-But we were—" She halted in her words. "Is this because you had to leave that Danny guy behind?"

A'isha scoffed. "Don't you even _mention_ that disgusting pig of a person!" she snapped, her features morphed into a look of revulsion.

Amara's expression changed to one of sympathy. "What...did he do, Ish?" she murmured, referring to A'isha by her nickname. She placed a comforting hand on her cousin's shoulder expectantly.

"It's nothing, Mar," she lied. "So...don't fret."

Amara frowned. "Okay, but if you change your mind, please don't hesitate to tell me," she assured. "Okay?"

"Right." A'isha forced a nod. "Thanks, Mar," she spoke, as her cousin stretched her arms out, offering a hug. Ish accepted.

_At least I still have Mar. She seems to understand me...and it seems she's the only one who does now. _A single tear rolled gently down her cheek. _This is all my fault. Mum; Dad, I'm so sorry. _A shaky sob left her lips. _I miss you both so much._

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I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. As some of you who have read the original may already know, Marik is in the next one! Woo! Can't wait to write that intro again! And BTW, do y'know what spins my head right round? Reviews! I really appreciate them, just as I appreciate you reading my story, so please take the time to review!


	3. Chapter 2: First Impressions

Here, have an update. You guys deserve one after the lack of them on this fic. And to compensate for the last chapter's length, this one's fairly long. Enjoy the second chapter of **Toying With My Emotions**!

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**CHAPTER TWO  
First Impressions**

"Mum," Amara shouted out from the front porch, where she held the front door opened for A'isha. "We're off to the mall now."

"Okay, Mar," Aunt Elissa shouted from her room upstairs. "A'isha, I need that car back by quarter to four. I have to supervise the catering for a wedding reception."

"No problem," A'isha replied from her place beside her younger cousin. "See ya then."

A'isha grabbed Elissa's keys from the nearby key rack and followed Amara out onto the porch, clicking the front door shut behind her. She followed Amara down the driveway and onto the sidewalk, where a white sedan was parked on the side of the road.

She briefly scanned her surroundings, noting the green grass and mowed lawns of her neighbors.

Situated beside the majestic Mediterranean Sea, Alexandria is one of Egypt's largest cities, coming in second place only to the renowned Cairo City, home of The Great Pyramid of Giza and the mystical Sphinx. She smiled in fond reminiscence, remembering she once lived a few blocks from here. _I can't believe it's been over eleven years._ Her next thought shed the smile from her face. _If only the reason I live here once more wasn't because of my parents' passing. _A melancholy sigh left her lips, but a nudge on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie. She glanced at Amara, who was supposed to be texting her best friend that they were leaving as they were meeting up at the mall. Instead, Ish found her squealing and jumping like a crazy fangirl.

"Oh my gosh! Check him out, Ish!" Mar shrieked as she pointed her index finger frantically at a guy across the street.

He was shooting hoops with an older man whose skin was a few shades darker than his own bronze complexion. The guy that was Amara's current excuse for unnecessary spazzing was quite handsome, she had to admit. Although she usually preferred men with short hair, he somehow pulled off a shoulder length do. The platinum blond of his hair against his dark skin was a striking contrast; one that A'isha thought intriguing considering he was clearly of African descent. He wore navy blue running shorts and white sports shoes; however, to her cousin's delight, he was shirtless.

A'isha was shook to reality, literally, as Amara gripped her arm and leapt up and down. "He is so fine!" she squealed in her ear, causing A'isha to flinch. "His abs! I mean—Just look at his abs!" She grinned from ear to ear. "What I'd do to get a piece of that fine Egyptian ass."

A'isha leaned against the white sedan as she examined him with intrigue. _He does look quite attractive,_ she thought with a small smile, but that smile quickly morphed into a look of horror when his gaze snapped her way. His lavender eyes bore right into hers, ice lingering within their depths. She barely registered her legs take a few steps back, the action influenced by the sudden intimidation brought by that narrowed gaze. He was suddenly a whole lot less attractive to her.

Her eyes rushed to find anywhere else to look but into his. "Shit," she shrieked as she covered her reddening face with her hand.

"Hey, Marik!" she heard Amara cry out in obvious adoration. A'isha could clearly imagine her cousin's current expression; eyes glistening with infatuation, an enormous grin upon her young face.

A'isha gave this Marik guy no time to reply, which she considered a good call after seeing the ice that glazed his eyes. "Time to go, Mar!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her right hand encircling the girl's wrist as her left swung the passenger door open. Ish threw her into the passenger seat, ignoring Mar's disgruntled "Hey—ow!"

Mar had a reputation for being boy-obsessed… Or to put it bluntly, a bit of a slut. She felt as if she always needed a boyfriend…or two…maybe three? A'isha recalled the phone call she'd received from Amara a few years back, proudly sharing that she had lost her innocence that night with her boyfriend of three days. She was thirteen. Funnily enough, her next phone call from Mar had been just a few days later; it entailed her cousin having a mental breakdown about how the guy she loved had broken up with her to be with her now ex-best friend. A'isha, although sympathetic at the time, had later told her she was a gullible idiot for having sex with a guy she'd been with for only three days; Amara hasn't mentioned her sex life to Ish since.

A'isha stormed around the car, daring a glance at Marik only to wish that she hadn't. An amused smirk was plastered onto his face, basketball in hand as he stared at the drama before him.

Her blue eyes narrowed. She had come across many smirks in her life, but there was something about his that really made her blood boil. Only when she reached the driver's door and swung it open did she build up the courage to hiss, "Do you mind, Pretty Boy?" She scrammed into the car and slammed her door shut before he could reply.

"Oh my gosh, Ish!" Amara cried in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing you just were?"

"I don't think I do," A'isha lied. She placed the key into the ignition and twisted it until the car roared to life. "Enlighten me."

"I was trying to introduce you to Marik!" Amara screeched, waving her hands frantically as if to emphasize her frustration. "And—well—some introduction that was! You were a total bitch to him!"

A'isha huffed as she checked that it was safe to pull out. "I don't care about first impressions, Mar." She exhaled deeply, hoping to dismiss some irritation from her mind. "And because I'm driving and I need to concentrate, can you just let this go?"

Amara sighed, an unsatisfied pout slipping onto her lips. "Fine."

Nighttime found A'isha and Amara hard at work in the kitchen.

"The lasagna's ready for the oven, Mar," A'isha stated, a glass dish in hand with a delicious lasagna prepared inside it.

"Awesome!" Amara replied with a bubbly grin. She glanced at a recipe book, then at the oven before saying, "The oven's at the right temperature. Chuck it in now and it should be ready in, like, half an hour."

A'isha glanced at the digital clock on the oven. "So at five past seven?"

"Um." Amara glanced at her smartphone. "Yeah, at five past."

"Okay." A'isha stretched her arms as she left the kitchen, walked through the dining room and into the family room. "When are Aunt Elissa and Uncle Ahad meant to be home?"

"I wasn't really listening. I think mum said she'd be home around eight or nine. Dad won't be home for ages because he's working noon till nine, I think."

A'isha grinned. "So we have the TV to ourselves…and Criminal Minds is about to play."

"I love that show!" Amara squealed, clapping her hands together as she ran into the room and leaped beside A'isha on the black, leather couch. "More for that hunky brown guy than the actual show."

"I like the actual show _and_ Shemar Moore," Ish stated with a laugh. "He's a babe!"

Amara beamed excitedly. "Now this conversation's getting somewhere!"

The sudden ring of the doorbell interrupted her. The two girls blinked at one another.

"Are you expecting anyone?" A'isha voiced, resisting the urge to say 'guys' in place of 'anyone'.

"Nope," Mar said with a shrug as she left the couch and raced into the hallway. The click of the front door being unlocked and opened was followed by a squeal of excitement.

"Marik!" came Amara's thrilled voice.

A'isha straightened in her seat, her cheeks reddening as she recalled the hostility she'd demonstrated earlier that day. _Oh great,_ she thought with a groan as her palm met her forehead.

"Hello, Amara," she heard a cold, grated voice greet.

_He sounds like such a creeper,_ A'isha thought. _He sounds cold, looks cold… I mean, his eyes were just so… _She shuddered, unable to find just one word to describe them. _Heaven knows why Mar basically worships him. Oh wait—He's black and he has a package. _A'isha smirked at this thought. _That explains it._

Two sets of footfalls drawing closer snapped her from her thoughts. One set was loud and graceless; which she recognized as Amara's in a millisecond. The second set, however, was smooth and calculated. Perhaps that small detail offered her a glimpse of his personality.

Her eyes trailed up from her place on the couch to find him gazing down at her with those same icy eyes. He was a head taller than Amara, who stood beside him with an enormous grin plastered onto her face. If that was the case, he must've been just a few inches taller than she was.

"Oh," Amara smiled at Marik, biting her bottom lip mischievously.

A'isha felt like gagging. She unknowingly scrunched her nose in disgust at the way Amara was acting around Marik.

"You two haven't officially met yet, have you? Marik, this is my cousin, A'isha. We call her Ish for short." She gestured to A'isha as if it wasn't obvious. She was the only other soul in the room, which only gave A'isha a sense of misfortune.

"A'isha," Marik murmured softly, as if testing her name on his tongue. "Such a pretty name." He smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He raised a bronze-skinned hand…barely. She hadn't bothered to rise from the couch.

A'isha glanced at her hands, which were balled into fists on her lap. Then, she eyed his hand suspiciously, her stomach squirming. She didn't trust him one bit. He hadn't done something to lose her trust, but he'd done absolutely nothing to gain it. The one thing that had earned her trust was her intuition and she wouldn't ignore it now.

Hesitantly, Ish accepted his strong handshake, her eyes narrowed warily the whole time.

"I believe you gawked at me earlier today." Marik continued, a mocking smirk curving the corners of his lips up.

A'isha's grip tightened, her eyes narrowing further as they gazed directly into his own. His eyes seemed to bait her as they bore back into hers. She ended the handshake immediately after, basically pulling her hand from Marik's vice like grip. It seemed like he didn't want to let go. Now she just knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. She smiled sweetly. "It wasn't much of a view."

Marik's smirk didn't waver. In fact, it grew. He cocked a brow as if shocked. "Is that so?" he began, imitating a look of shock. "You looked quite enamored by what you saw. Not to mention you were mortified when our gazes crossed paths."

A'isha ground her teeth. Then her nose twitched and her eyes grew wide as the smell of charcoal tickled her nose. "The lasagna!" she cried as she leaped from the couch, shoved Marik out of the way and sprinted into the kitchen.

She shoved on some oven mittens. When she threw the oven door open, the smell of charcoal overwhelmed her. She quickly removed the glass dish from the oven and placed it on the stove.

"Remind me to never consume your cooking," Marik stated with an amused smirk as he leaned against the doorway that separated the kitchen and dining room area from the family room.

"_Consume_." A'isha groaned, glaring daggers at the guy. She was frustrated enough that their dinner was burnt. She didn't need this jerk testing her patience as well. "Can't you just say _eat_?" She turned to her cousin, who was screwing up her nose at the burnt food. "I thought you said it would take half an hour in the oven!"

A'isha and Marik both stared at Amara as she examined the recipe. "Oops." She bit her bottom lip. "That's the cooking time for a serving for four people. We did half that." She rubbed her neck sheepishly. "And I may have done the oven temperature a bit higher than it said."

"Oops?" A'isha mimicked, smacking her head in frustration. "Well it's canned soup for dinner," she muttered, brushing a hand through her wavy black hair; an action she often did when stressed.

"Ew! No, canned soup's gross," Amara shrieked. She smiled sweetly as her attention turned to Marik. "Marik, could you please take me to the mall to get some sushi?"

"I can't." He sighed irritably. "My motorbike is at the mechanics."

"Oh," she voiced, clearly disappointed. She had wanted to ride on his motorcycle with him so that she had a valid excuse to wrap her arms around his waist.

"Why not delivery?" A'isha offered like it was obvious. It was easier than leaving the house at night and driving to the mall. "I feel like butter chicken."

Amara shrugged. "Whatever," she said simply. "You can phone. I'm gonna go shower." She smiled impishly at Marik, who cocked a brow in slight annoyance.

A'isha's mouth was slightly agape, semi-shocked by her behavior. _Amara has changed so much. She was never this selfish and, well, bitchy._

"And when exactly did I become your personal slave?" she snapped as Amara ran up the stairs and out of sight. Ish huffed, frustrated furthermore that Amara had ignored her. She glanced at Marik, who was smirking at her. "And why exactly are you smirking?" she hissed.

Marik closed the little distance between them, his smirk growing at the unease this caused A'isha. "You," he said with a tap of her nose.

She furrowed her brows. "What?"

He chuckled. "_You_ are presently the source of my amusement."

"You're just plain creepy!" A'isha burst out, undeniably disturbed as she spun on her heel, grabbed the portable phone from the bench and ran upstairs to her room. She slammed the door behind her.

_There's no way I'll be by myself with that creeper,_ she thought with a shudder. She sat on the bed, found the closest Indian store under frequent contacts on the phone and made her order. They told her that her order was about twenty five minutes away.

She glanced at her bedside table, where her iPod speakers sat. She smiled, crawling across her bed to grab her iPod and choose a decent song to jam to. She scrolled through her favorite playlist, settling on "Sexy And I Know It" by LMFAO. "I really need a good laugh," she voiced with a small smirk as she turned the music right up.

She leapt to her feet and began to jump carelessly around the room, singing along the song with a wide grin. Although she wasn't really putting much effort into it right now, dancing was actually her passion. Her dancing prowess compensated for her rather poor grades in most subjects, with the exception of French and English, which she was an A plus student in. It wasn't that she wasn't bright. She simply lacked discipline and shirked in her studies just to hang out with her friends and play Tetris and Angry Birds in class. But she was hoping to amend this at her new school.

A'isha leaped onto her bed, jumping as she sang, "I've got a passion in ma pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it, show it."

A loud shout brought her from her tone deaf singing. "Hello, Ish." Her eyes widened and she stumbled from the bed and onto the carpet, barely avoiding a carpet burn to the face.

She groaned in agony. That agony grew when an increasingly familiar chuckle met her ears. "How graceful," Marik jested.

"Even if you weren't being sarcastic," she hissed as she rose to her feet, "how would jumping on a bed be considered graceful under any circumstance?"

Marik ignored her. Instead, he entered her room, quickly located her speakers and turned off the device. "Now that is far more relaxing," he murmured with a smug grin. "Don't you agree, my dear?"

"My dear?" A'isha almost spat. "Wait—You can't just come into _my _room and turn off _my _music!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't you have anything better to do than brass me off?"

_Then again, knowing Mar she's probably still in the shower,_ A'isha thought, ensuring her dangerous glare didn't falter.

He ignored her bitter attitude as his lavender pools scrutinized her room.

A'isha sighed in an attempt to calm herself, if only a little. "Marik, I'd appreciate it if you would _kindly _leave my room," she informed with a sweet, but mocking smile.

He ignored her once again. Her hands balled into fists at her side at his lacking response. His eyes fell upon a framed photo. A young, dark haired girl beamed up at him. She was perched upon the shoulders of a laughing man who looked identical to Amara's father in physical features, aside from his very short black hair, instead of shoulder length hair like Ahad's. A blonde female with entrancing cerulean blue eyes held the man's hand tightly, smiling in content. He reached out for the frame when, suddenly, a small hand encircled his wrist.

"Don't touch it," A'isha said sharply, her eyes glued on the laughing girl. In an instant, her vision was clouded by hot tears that threatened to make their presence known. She dreaded letting them fall in front of him.

Marik's eyes softened as a frown weighed down his lips in place of a smirk for the first time that night. "What happened to them?" he whispered in a tone that was surprisingly sympathetic.

"A car crash."

"So that's why you're here," he murmured softly, as if thinking the sentence aloud. Then another question. "When?"

"Two weeks ago." Guilt was evident upon her face.

"You're guilty."

A'isha's eyes widened. "What?" she asked a little too quickly.

"I can see it, A'isha, Guilt plagues your mind," he spoke softly. "Why?"

She subconsciously bit her bottom lip. _I've…never told anyone why they were in such a rush._

Suddenly, A'isha's eyes hardened. She glared venomously at the blond. "That's none of your business!" she hissed. "Don't act like you know me! You know nothing about me or my life and the way you've treated me since we met proves you don't deserve to!" She shoved him once in the direction of the door. He hardly moved. "I'd be an idiot to tell you. I _am_ an idiot for telling you this much!"

Marik's expression grew solemn. "I'm an orphan too."

"I don't care!" she yelled callously, shoving him once more towards the door. This time he complied and began to retreat from the room, any and all form of smugness erased from his features as a child-like innocence made itself known in the form of a sorrow akin to A'isha's. Upon hearing her words once more he stopped mid-step. "You're not plagued by the guilt of knowing that they'd still be here if you'd never been!" she screamed, her cheeks reddened by rage. "Just leave me alone!

Marik's frown grew, remembering that she had stated he was acting like he knew her; and now here she was, jumping to conclusions about his own past. His hands curled into fists at his side. And how false her accusation was, for if he'd never been here then his mother would've never died as a direct cause of childbirth. He decided a better option would be for her to learn that detail on her own. So instead, he shocked her by leaving her to her lonely cries.

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For those of you that are new to this fic, I hope you are enjoying it so far; for those of you that are familiar with TWME, I hope you're enjoying the rewrite! By the way, The Duelist's Heiress and I concluded on a shipping name for A'isha and Marik that applies to this fic and our coauthored fic, In A Name: **Actshipping**. As always, reviews are appreciated!


	4. Chapter 3: One Man, Two Masks

Okay...So right now I am pretty damn exhausted...sore neck, sore foot, sore eyes, coughing...and not looking forward to work. But that's okay! Cause guess what? Five hours later at 3 AM and I had rewritten chapters 3 through 6 of this fic! Huzzah! So I may be damn tired as I only got five hours of sleep and I have four hours of work today (luckily not more because my foot is still attempting to heal) but oh well, because I was on a roll writing this fic and didn't want to waste it! :D So enjoy!

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**CHAPTER THREE  
One Man, Two Masks**

A'isha had her reddened face buried into her beige pillow. The black smear of mascara stained the pillow and black had dirtied her knuckles where she'd carelessly rubbed away tears that had made themselves known. She lifted her head to steal another glance at the reminiscent photo that now sat on her bedside table. She immediately regretted it when a familiar wave of grief overwhelmed her and tears erupted in her eyes once more.

Balling a trembling fist and smashing it against the pillow, A'isha let an infuriated shriek leave her lips. "I _hate_ my life!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

She sat up on her bed, folding her legs and arms as she stared at the corner of the room furthest from her, enthralled in her thoughts. "Aunt Elissa and Uncle Ahad don't understand; they never did. But I—" Her bottom lip began to quiver as loneliness reared its ugly head her way. "I thought that Amara would. She's always understood me." She breathed out a shaky sigh as she attempted to stifle more tears. "But now…now no one understands."

Suddenly, A'isha heard soft, almost inaudible footfalls beyond her bedroom door. Her stomach tightened in alarm, as if squeezed without mercy by some invisible hand.

Someone had been listening.

A'isha could perceive the ongoing hum of the water pump, so Amara was still in the shower. No surprises there. A'isha had ordered Indian twenty minutes ago.

_If it wasn't Amara then it must've been—_ A'isha's blue eyes narrowed _–Sir Jerk-A-Lot. _She stormed towards the door and fiercely swung it open.

"Marik!" she screamed, only to be met by an empty hallway. She furrowed her brows as she marched along the hallway and down the stairs. She cautiously scanned her surroundings as she did, as if half expecting Marik to jump out and scare the hell out of her.

Instead, it was her sense of smell that was pleasantly surprised by the aroma of Indian cuisine. Confusion racked her brains as she tried to recall hearing the doorbell.

A'isha determined the smell was originating from the kitchen and wandered into the modernized room. She cocked a brow at the sight before her. There, sitting on the bench beside her cold, burnt lasagna, sat their fresh, inviting Indian. She took a few steps closer upon noticing a small, handwritten note that had been placed upon the first container.

In fine script, the note read:

_A'isha,_

_I have addressed this message to you as I know Amara won't be leaving the shower any time soon. Before you __consume__ this meal, I believe it would be in your best interest to know that you owe me eighteen pounds exactly. I imagine you were too immersed in your thoughts to hear the doorbell._

_Yours truly,_

_M.I._

The paper crinkled as her grip tightened. _Oh God. He did hear me talking._ Fury bubbled within her as she sourly ripped the paper to shreds, before crumpling it into a ball and launching it at the bin beside the fridge.

A'isha had turned in early that night. Partially due to her aching eyes, partially because she just wanted the day to end. She knew that Amara would've heard her roaring Marik's name; maybe even be disappointed that she and Marik didn't get on like two peas in a pod. A'isha surmised that Mar just had to suck up and deal with it.

* * *

The sound of the soft piano music that had lulled A'isha to sleep the previous night was the first indication that sleep time was over. She was motionless for a few minutes, savoring the warmth her bed offered. Groggily, she threw her sheets away from her body, sat up in her bed and threw her legs over the side. The cold immediately nipped at her skin, causing goosebumps to blanket her skin. She quickly scooped up her nearby robe and swung it over her shivering body.

When she entered the hallway, a sharp pain stung her side. "Move!" came Amara's bitter voice.

After the initial shock, A'isha eyes narrowed. No doubt Amara was angry about her fights with Marik. "Good morning to you too, Miss Sunshine," she pressed, rolling her eyes.

Amara ignored her. Instead, she stormed down the stairs.

A'isha sighed. _What a lovely start to the day,_ she thought sourly as she swept a hand through her long, wavy locks, which were in need of a good brush.

She entered the kitchen a minute later, the intoxicating smell of pancakes tickling her nose. "Morning, Aunt Elissa." A'isha attempted a small smile; she did a pretty good job considering she was most definitely not a morning person "Those pancakes smell good."

"Why thank you, Ish," Elissa chimed, flipping a pancake with ease. "There are some pancakes fresh from the pan on that plate over there." She gestured further along the bench. "Whipped cream and syrup are in the fridge. Bananas are already sliced on the cutting board." She flashed a gentle smile. "So help yourself."

Aunt Elissa worked as a chef at one of the more popular restaurants in Alexandria, while Uncle Ahad was a sergeant in the police force. All in all, they had a generous income and were well known in the neighborhood. Because of this, A'isha found herself feeling rather jealous of Amara. She seemed to have the perfect life – which she no doubt took for granted. A'isha's, on the other hand, had recently been shattered. It really wasn't fair.

A frown curved A'isha's lips downward as her thoughts turned toward her own parents.

Her mother, Hani'ah, had been an Egyptologist, following in her parents' footsteps. Although completely Caucasian, her name had been inspired by her parents' love for Egyptian culture. It meant "of happiness and bliss". Two qualities that had captured the heart of her father, Almahdi, who had been a curator at Cairo Museum at the time. Hani'ah had quickly noticed that her artifacts weren't the only thing capturing the young man's interest, and his great sense of humor had ultimately ensured that the feeling was mutual.

A few minutes later, A'isha was happily munching away at her breakfast, which had certainly come as a pleasant surprise. Her mood suddenly soured as the slam of a door met her ears. She flinched.

"What's got Amara so upset?" Elissa asked, raising a questioning brow at her niece. "Did you two get into a fight?"

A'isha groaned. "She's just angry because Marik and I aren't BFFs yet."

Elissa laughed. "Exactly how much of an under-exaggeration is that?"

"Well we're definitely far from being best friends forever," Ish muttered. "He insulted me as soon as we met when I'd done close to nothing to him, unless calling him pretty boy when he's being stalkerish counts. Then he puts down my cooking and invades me privacy and—"

"Marik has _had_ a lot of hardships in his life," Elissa informed. "What with his mother dying during his birth and his father dying when the boy was only ten," she continued with a grim frown. "I'm surprised he's turned out to be such an intelligent young man."

A'isha's heart sunk. "Did you say his mother died while giving birth to him?" she said a little too quickly.

"Yes," her aunt replied, seeming shocked that Ish didn't know.

"Oh my gosh," A'isha whispered, guilt sinking to the pit of her stomach.

"Terrible, isn't it?" Elissa voiced. "He truly is a nice young man."

"I'm sure he is," A'isha lied. She faked a smile, while inside she was grimacing at the guilt-driven thought that now ran through her head, refusing to be ignored.

* * *

That afternoon, A'isha subconsciously played with the change in her jacket pocket as she crossed the deserted street. She couldn't quite believe what was about to transpire…at her hands.

She hesitantly walked up the pathway that led to the Ishtar residence's front door. She gulped once she reached it. Eventually, a shaky finger pressed hard on the button that sets off the doorbell. The faint chime of a soothing Egyptian melody sung through the house.

A'isha raised a brow. _What a strange doorbell._

Ish pursed her lips as she nervously rocked from her heel to her toes and back again, waiting. She paused when she heard the doorknob twist. The door spread open soon after to reveal an attractive woman, whose skin was a similar colour to her own. Her features were exotic and gentle; her entrancing eyes lined with a simple, yet striking flick of black kohl.

"Good day." The woman smiled and A'isha immediately knew that she was good-natured by the gentleness of her voice. "A'isha, was it?" Her smile widened. "I am Ishizu."

"Nice to meet you, Ishizu," A'isha replied with a small smile. Ishizu's warm smile made it difficult to avoid returning the expression. "I'm guessing Aunt Elissa and Uncle Ahad mentioned me moving here?"

"Indeed, they did." Her smile faded then as a frown took its place. "I am sorry to hear of the circumstances under which you have moved here."

"Thank you." A'isha cleared her throat. "Is this where Marik lives?"

Ishizu nodded. "Yes, he is my brother."

A'isha bit her bottom lip. "Is he, um—Is he home?" she drawled out nervously, part of her wanting to turn and run while she still had the chance.

"Actually, he bused over to the repair shop a while ago to pick up his motorcycle."

A'isha wasn't sure of whether to be relieved or disappointed. She settled on disappointed because it prolonged her anxiety at having to face the jerk.

"However, he shouldn't be long." She took a step to the side. "You are welcomed to join my brother, Odion, and I until he returns."

Uneasily, A'isha accepted the offer. She didn't want to seem rude.

She was amazed by their home. Tall mahogany shelves were adorned in delicate artifacts; the plain beige walls were covered by elaborate paintings placed in thick golden frames. The house had an ancient, mystical feel to it, and yet somehow it was very homely. The air was cool and refreshing, which A'isha considered strange because of the small, closed windows and the small, burning candles. She supposed they had air conditioning.

A'isha noticed a tall, muscular man reclining on the living room sofa. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. His skin was a few shades darker than Marik's and his hazel eyes seemed stern, although she detected gentleness lingering within their depths. Besides a long pony tail of black locks, his head was shaved.

"This is my brother, Odion," Ishizu stated. "This is A'isha. The newest addition to the Dahar family."

"It is nice to meet you, A'isha." Odion smiled. "I believe I saw you yesterday with your cousin."

A'isha laughed sheepishly at the reminder of the previous day's events. "Yeah, you were shooting hoops with Marik."

"Please make yourself comfortable." Ishizu gestured to the sofa. "Can I get you a drink?"

A'isha shook her head gently. "I'm fine, thank you."

Suddenly, a faint rumble met her ears. She froze.

"Ah," Ishizu voiced. "I believe that will be Marik!" She smiled gently at A'isha.

A'isha swallowed hard. _I don't suppose it's too late to run home?_ she wondered, already aware of the answer. But now she wished it wasn't so.

* * *

The sound grew louder, into a powerful roar. It reminded A'isha of some hungry beast that was quickly approaching to feast on her misfortune. And providing Marik was said beast, she considered the description pretty accurate. After all, he seemed to get some creepy amusement out of her expense. Suddenly, the roaring sound of the motor dropped to a low rumble, before falling silent.

A'isha glanced at her company, wondering if they could sense her uneasiness as they suddenly seemed strangely silent. She hated the sudden silence; although she supposed it was better than the insults she'd no doubt soon receive from their brother.

Moments later she heard increasingly familiar slow, calculated steps. She cocked a brow at the whistling that accompanied the steps. She couldn't quite put her finger on the tune.

There was a pause. Then the doorknob turned and the front door gently opened. From her place upon the sofa, she could only see his shadow upon the wall in the hallway. "Ishizu, Odion," Marik shouted out, his warm tone of voice freezing A'isha in shock. He sounded completely different. The shadow trailed along the wall until its owner came into sight. "I'm…" Marik failed to finish the sentence. His lavender gaze bore right into A'isha's.

Ishizu rose from her seat as she said, "Good evening, Marik."

"Hey, sis," he replied, although his attention was hardly on her. His lips curved into a crooked half grin at his unexpected company. "Ish… What a delightful surprise."

"She came over about five minutes ago to pay you a visit."

"I see." His eyes flashed with amusement. A second later, false warmth took its place.

A'isha shuddered, put on edge by his scrutinizing gaze. She gulped.

He casually strode into the Family Room and seated himself on the arm of the couch beside her. He looked down at her. "How are you this evening, Ish?" he asked, smiling gently at her. She knew he was addressing her by her nickname to irritate her. She couldn't tell him off for calling her 'Ish' when his family was there.

Ishizu's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. _Marik is being far too nice,_ she thought pointedly.

A'isha was dumbfounded. "What?" she voiced carelessly. She'd expected to be met by harsh words. Not a friendly question. Her eyes narrowed upon realizing why he was being so friendly – his siblings were present.

She dismissed her shock long enough to answer him. "I'm…fine…" she drawled out meekly.

"That's good to hear." He flashed a smile, revealing white teeth that contrasted greatly against his dark complexion. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Uhh…" was all that left A'isha's mouth.

"Perhaps we should talk somewhere more private," he stated, encircling his hand around her wrist and almost dragging her from the room. "My room will do nicely."

Ishizu and Odion stared after them.

He dragged her up the mahogany stairs, her steps loud and clumsy as she struggled to keep up with Marik. As they trailed down the hallway, A'isha spoke. "I only wanted a quick wo—" Her words were cut short as Marik basically shoved her into his room. She stumbled into a bed, flinching when her foot bent sideways. The slam of a door made her jump.

"Y-You jerk!" A'isha hissed, crouching to rub her tender ankle. "You made me bend my foot!"

Marik ignored her complaint. Instead, he spun on his heel to face her. "Why are you here?" he spat, eyes slightly narrowed.

"Of course," A'isha hissed, her eyes narrowing to match his. "Now that the family's out of earshot you're back to being a complete and utter ass!" She glared hard at him. "Isn't that right?"

"You have yet to answer my question," he spoke, his voice suddenly calm, "so I see no need to answer yours."

"You first!" A'isha huffed.

"My question was, in fact, first and therefore _you_—" He lightly tapped her nose as a smirk snaked across his lips "—should prioritize it as such."

A'isha glowered at him, clearly not sharing the amusement. She turned away from him as she inhaled deeply, and then exhaled. An apology shouldn't be spoken in a bitter tone.

Her eyes scanned his bedroom. The room was spacious, but not so big that it lost its cozy atmosphere. There were two wooden cupboards, a small one to the right of his double bed and a larger one opposite his bed. Surprisingly, there were no candles in his room and the windows were a lot bigger, allowing the room to be engulfed by hoards of sunlight.

It was then that she noticed a mahogany desk that was placed beside a large rectangular window. She minutely noted that the window overlooked the road outside and had a perfect view into her bedroom on the other side of the road. That left her feeling slightly unsettled. But then something else grabbed her attention.

Silently, she passed Marik and approached his desk.

"What are you doing?" she heard him voice, emotions of curiosity and irritation laced into one as the words rolled off his tongue.

She ignored him, her attention seized by a photo frame that reminded her of the one on her bedside table. The photograph within the frame was of a middle-aged woman. A genuine smile lit up her face. The scenery behind her was of a white, sandy beach with shimmering blue water as smooth as glass.

The woman's belly was incredibly swollen. She must've been expecting anytime then. A'isha's lips curved downwards in sympathy.

A warm hand upon her shoulder snapped her from her thoughts.

"My mother," Marik voiced, his voice rid of any and all emotion.

A'isha bit her lip. "When was it taken?" she whispered, her eyes still fixed on the photograph.

He was silent for a moment; she could hear his shaky breaths. "December twenty third," he finally murmured. "My birthday."

A'isha nodded slowly as tears welled up in her eyes. She recalled the deaths of her own parents and suddenly felt somewhat less sad as she realized some weren't so lucky and never met their parents at all.

A'isha gasped slightly as Marik gripped her shoulders and gently spun her to face him. "I take it someone told you?" he whispered knowingly.

"Actually…that's why I'm here."

* * *

And that's this chapter done! I'll post the next chapter within the next few days. And y'know what would wake me up today and make me feel uber happy? Reviews! Wink wink... Wink. FYI, that was a YGOTAS reference. XD


	5. Chapter 4: Echoes In My Mind

Huzzah for the next chapter! This was so darn fun to write. I just love writing our beloved Mister Manipulative! :D So without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR  
Echoes In My Mind**

Marik's grip on her shoulders tightened as his body went stiff. "You're here concerning my mother's death?" he murmured softly, his lavender eyes fixed on hers. She tried to read the emotion swimming within them—sombreness, grief, even guilt.

She nodded slowly. _Damn my hot headedness. I could've sympathised with him straight away and saved myself all this trouble but no—I had to be sad and say I didn't care!_ A'isha exhaled a breathe she'd unknowingly been holding. _Here goes nothing…aside from my pride._

Her eyes glanced over his shoulder as she attempted to avoid his scrutinising gaze. "Elissa told me what happened to your mother," she whispered meekly. "And it criticized what I said about how you weren't plagued by the guilt of knowing that—" She paused for a moment, wondering if it would cause him grief to voice it aloud "—your parents would still be here if you'd never been." A'isha's eyes began to shimmer as a wall of tears threatened to fall. "I'm sorry for making such a horrible assumption." She remembered the frown that had curved onto his lips when she'd spoken those words. "And I know that what I said hurt you."

Marik glanced at the floor for a moment. She wondered if he was trying to hide tears that may or may not have been forming in his eyes.

"So—" She sighed deeply "—what I'm trying to say is that I'm…I'm sorry." She gulped. "I'm sorry for being so ignorant and self-absorbed. I'm sorry for saying that I don't care that you're an orphan." She bit her bottom lip, which was trembling ever so slightly. "It's hard…and I've only been one for a little over two weeks; you've been an orphan since you were ten."

Marik raised his head to gaze at her, shock ridden across his face. Her apology had been unexpected, to say the least. Of course, it wasn't that he believed what she said was not worthy of an apology. He was simply confused that she was apologising to him after his less than amicable nature towards her. She was certainly more difficult to interpret than most. "Thank you," he whispered softly.

A new thought arose then, which caused his eyes to narrow coldly. _Perhaps her apology is simply a failed attempt at receiving an apology from me in exchange,_ he considered. _If that is, indeed, her incentive, it has sadly fallen upon deaf ears, my dear._ He fought back a smirk. _For toying with her emotions is far more amusing, and I don't wish to end this little game of ours before it has even begun._

In his mind, he chuckled amusedly. But he maintained a calm exterior, until the sound of flicking pages met his ears. Only then did he realise A'isha no longer stood before him, but had seated herself on the edge of his bed, where she was casually flicking through a large book.

"What are you doing?" Marik hissed. "You're touching my things!"

A'isha smirked at the blond. "Kinda like how you touched my iPod speakers, huh?"

Marik glared at her.

She glanced back at the book. "So this is, like, a photo album?" she asked.

"What gave it away?" Marik replied with a roll of his eyes. He sat down beside her on the bed. "The photos stuck to each page?" He tapped the current page twice with an amused smirk. "Or the bold words on the cover that read 'Photo Album'?" He laughed.

A'isha snickered. "FYI, I was just trying to make small talk," she shrieked, shoving him playfully before realising who she was actually laughing with. She immediately stopped laughing then.

"Perhaps you should ask a question you don't know the answer to."

"That doesn't really help," A'isha murmured as she flicked through the pages. "I know everything." Her lips curved upwards slightly.

Marik opened his mouth to retort, but A'isha spoke up once more. "You, Odion, Ishizu and your mother are all in here," she drawled, raising her eyes to meet his, "but what about your father? He's not—"

She jumped when the book suddenly slammed shut. Her eyes fell upon the book in her lap just in time to see Marik's tanned hand rip it from her grasp.

"That's none of your concern," he snapped as his eyes suddenly narrowed to slits.

_Woah. _A'isha blinked at him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape in shock. _What did his father do to him?!_

Before A'isha could piece together a sentence to reply with—not that she wanted to after that lash out—a soft knock seized her attention.

"Yes?" Marik almost hissed, his mood clearly soured by the mentioning of his father.

The door opened slowly to reveal Ishizu, her expression gentle with—perhaps—mild concern. Whether said concern was for A'isha or Marik was unclear.

"Dinner is ready, Marik." Her eyes turned to A'isha as she smiled. "Would you like to join us for dinner?"

"Uhh…" was A'isha's only reply. She wasn't too thrilled at the idea of hanging out with the bipolar nut that presently sat beside her.

Marik's bitter mood suddenly evaporated, and a smile lit up his face. "How ironic. Ish and I were just talking about her staying for dinner." Marik successfully fought back a smirk as A'isha's narrowed eyes fell on him a little too quickly. "We decided that she'd _love_ to stay!"

Ishizu's gaze went from Marik, back to A'isha. "You did?" she asked.

A'isha failed to realise that Ishizu was suspicious of Marik's words. She knew that her brother could be manipulative and that it was more than plausible that he was lying.

A'isha pursed her lips together nervously. _That jerk off. Why does he want me to stay for dinner? To prolong the torture?_ She sighed. _But I hate being rude, so…_

"Sure, I'll stay for dinner," A'isha stated with a forced smile. "I am quite hungry."

Ishizu nodded with a warm smile. "Very well. Our dinner is ready and waiting for us at the dinner table."

The moment Ishizu left the room, A'isha's narrowed gaze snapped toward Marik. Her eyes narrowed further upon noting the arrogant smirk he wore. "What the hell was that?" she quietly hissed through clenched teeth.

Marik raised a blond brow in false confusion. "Whatever do you mean, Ish?" he replied innocently. "I simply thought it'd be lovely for you to join my family and I for a peaceful dinner."

"Peaceful?" A'isha hissed. "Ha! That's the joke of the century!" She rose from the bed, her eyes never leaving his. His face was lit up in amusement, his lips curved into a mocking smirk as his eyes laughed at the unfortunate girl. "You're planning something!" she hissed, poking a finger into his chest. "What're you gonna do this time?" she growled. "Humiliate me in front of your family? Ridicule me? Claim I'm—"

A'isha paused as Marik suavely rose from his bed, smirk never wavering. He closed the little distance between them so that they were nose to nose. She felt his hot breath grazing her skin. He leaned closer still, his lips positioned by her ear. "Stay and find out," he whispered in an icy voice that almost sounded hypnotic.

A'isha jerked her head away from him, nerves running wild. He seemed to loom over her, eying her as if she were a pitiful gazelle and, he, a hungry lion; taunting his prey to the brink of insanity. She was afraid. Marik was different. And not the good kind either. "And if I don't?" she challenged, although her shaky voice was anything but challenging.

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, my dear," he whispered snidely.

A'isha's eyes narrowed further. "You're not giving me the option to leave?" she hissed, although not surprised at this point.

Marik chuckled darkly. "Well, we wouldn't want to be rude, would we?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion, so unnerved by this whole new level of manipulation that she trembled. "How did you—"

"—Know your reason for staying?" Marik interjected, his mocking smirk growing wider still. "How many questions is that in that last two minutes? I'm counting eight." He laughed when she only glared. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid we lack the time to raise that number to twenty." He coolly made his way to the doorway, no doubt satisfied by the control he held over this situation. "Our dinner grows cold, my dear." His eyes laughed at her. "And we don't want to be rude." He gestured to the doorway. "Ladies first."

A'isha stormed past him and down the hallway, not bothering to wait for him.

Marik only found more amusement in that. His expression was smug as he gently closed his bedroom door behind him; however, not before throwing a leather jacket around him, the movement causing a golden object tucked under his belt to gleam for a mere moment before the jacket settled into place and hid it from view.

* * *

A'isha muttered curses under her breath as she entered the Dining Room, barely refraining from storming in there. She quickly hushed herself upon realising that Ishizu and Odion were already sitting at the dinner table and were quite possibly within earshot. She forced a smile. _Polite, A'isha. Be polite,_ she instructed herself as she breathed in and out in a failed attempt to ease her nerves. _It's Marik that's the crazy jerk. Ishizu and Odion have done nothing, so don't be bitter and ruin their dinner._

"Ah, A'isha," Ishizu chimed. "Take a seat." There were eight seats in total surrounding the rectangle table. She was sitting on the chair closest to the end on the far right of the table. She gestured to the chair on her left.

"Thank you." She took a step towards the seat, when rushed steps suddenly piqued her ears. Before she'd even registered it, Marik was standing before her, pulling out her chair.

"You _are_ our guest," he stated with a warm smile.

She barely resisted the urge to scowl. _Aww. One would almost think him sincere,_ she thought sarcastically. As his siblings were present, she concluded she had no choice but to go along with it.

She feigned flattery. "Why thank you, Marik." She placed herself in the seat. "You're very _different_ from other guys I've met."

Marik suppressed a grin; only he understood the truth behind her words. He gently pushed her chair in before claiming the seat opposite her, beside Odion.

"Help yourself, A'isha," Ishizu insisted.

A'isha nodded with another forced smile. "Thanks." She scooped up some stew from the large crock pot placed at the centre of the table, and placed into her bowl with a soft _plop_. It smelt awfully good. _It looks interesting…I wonder what it's called._

"It's called Bamia. An exquisite Egyptian stew," Marik pointed out, a smug glint in his eye.

"Right…" A'isha voiced, although in her mind she shuddered. _**Is**__ he reading my mind?_ she wondered uneasily, eying the blond as he enjoyed his dinner. _Could he even be reading it right n—?_ She froze when his eyes snapped up at her, right as she thought that.

Her eyes grew wide in fear and shock combined into one. An amused smirk curved Marik's lips upwards, but a few short moments later and it was gone.

_It's not…possible._

_**/Oh, it is possible, my dear. For me, that is./**_ His voice suddenly rung in her mind, a hypnotic edge to his otherwise icy tone. She jumped, banging her leg against the table.

Ishizu gasped softly. "A'isha, are you alright?" she asked. Odion glanced at the panicked teenager with a worried gleam in his hazel eyes.

A'isha let loose a shaky sigh. "I-I'm fine," she stuttered. At this, Marik couldn't resist a soft snicker. "I-I just thought I…left something in the, uhh, in the oven!" She grinned sheepishly, waving her hands in a dismissive manner.

Ishizu frowned in slight disbelief, but she decided not to press the matter. "Very well…"

A'isha smiled rather awkwardly as she continued to eat her stew and, for a few moments, eerie silence enveloped the room, aside from the scraping of cutlery and the soft chewing of food. But A'isha barely noticed; her mind was too busy racing with thoughts of sheer disbelief at what was taking place.

Finally, Ishizu broke the silence. "So, A'isha," Ishizu began as she glanced at the girl, "I take it that, like Amara, you are attending Alexandria High School?"

A'isha swallowed and nodded simultaneously. "Yeah." Another forced smile. "From what I've been told, it's a respectable school."

Ishizu nodded. "Yes; most students do very well, Marik included."

"Ah," A'isha voiced, daring a glance his way. He flashed a smile. A'isha detected a smug air about him even then. "That's great."

"Are you fifteen, like Amara?" Ishizu asked curiously.

A'isha shook her head. "No, I'm sixteen. In eleventh grade."

"In that case, perhaps Marik will share some classes with you." Her eyes turned to Marik.

He barely succeeded in holding back a plotting smirk. "If that is the case, I'd be more than happy to show you around the school." His eyes held a cunning edge. "What subjects do you take?"

A'isha fought back a scowl. "Thanks." She sipped her water, before continuing to speak. "I'm taking French, English, Mathematics, Drama, Biology, History and then Dance as an after-school activity." She double checked in her head to make sure she'd listed them all.

"Any subject you favour in particular?" Ishizu asked.

A'isha nodded, finally showing a genuine smile. "Dancing! I love it!"

Ishizu grinned at A'isha's sudden enthusiasm. "I take it you're very good?"

A light blush grazed her cheeks. "Well—"

"From what I saw yesterday, I can assure you that she's a great dancer," Marik interrupted, grinning at Ish.

A'isha fought back a glare. After all, yesterday he had mockingly stated "How graceful" when she had fallen over – and she hadn't been trying.

"You haven't seen anything yet," A'isha stated somewhat proudly. "But thank you."

"You are most welcome," Marik chimed. "I'm sure you hold strengths in other subjects?"

A'isha began to chew nervously on her bottom lip. She wasn't particularly great in any of her other subjects, aside from English and French. For a moment, she was sure she'd heard an amused laugh echo in her mind. "I'm, uh, good at English and French," she finally said, suddenly finding her near empty bowl very interesting. Her hair purposefully covering her flushed cheeks.

Marik raised a brow, faking disbelief. "Nothing else?"

A'isha slowly shook her head. Her eyes suddenly ached. He was mocking her; making her feel terrible about herself, _doubt_ herself. Her blue eyes seemed to flicker a shade darker, a frown weighing down her lips. Why did she feel a pang of self-doubt? Marik knew nothing about her. Or did he? After all, there he was. Inside her head.

Her bottom lip quivered slightly as she shook her head, her silver earrings jingling at the abrupt movement. "Not really," she whispered solemnly.

"Oh." Marik faked sympathy, but within the confinements of her mind he laughed.

_**/How pathetic,/**_ he spat, causing her to flinch. She wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to cry. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment as her eyes began to tear. She just wanted to cry so badly…to wash away the sadness that plagued her mind of her failures…of the disappointment she must be to her parents. Wherever they were. But she couldn't bare to cry in front of _him_. And yet, why did it matter if she cried on the outside? In her mind, she was already crying. He knew it…He _liked_ it.

_Get out of my head, you callous jerk!_ A'isha screamed in her mind.

She heard a dark chuckle. _**/Too weak to force me out of your pathetic little mind, Ish?/**_

A'isha shook her head furiously as she suddenly rose from her seat, the legs of the chair seeming to groan as it scraped along the wooden floor. She couldn't handle this. She _was_ too weak. And she was absolutely terrified. How was it possible for him to read her thoughts? And to speak to her within the concealments of her mind? The place that should remain just that: concealed. She growled almost inaudibly as her eyes met Marik's piercing ones. Eyes that seemed to lash right into her mind…into her soul, as if discovering her deepest desires and darkest, most embarrassing secrets.

"S-Sorry, but I…I have to go!" A'isha stuttered. She truly was sorry. Sorry for Ishizu and Odion. It wasn't their fault. None of this was their fault. And now guilt slowly nibbled away at her.

"Oh," Ishizu simply voiced, shocked by A'isha's sudden outburst.

Odion stared on with wide eyes at the distressed girl.

A'isha noticed how unsteady her breathing was and tried to better maintain it. She was trembling…so afraid. Marik could _read_ her mind. And _speak_ to her _in_ her mind. How could she not be terrified?

"I truly am sorry, but I just realised—" She quickly thought up an excuse "—I have to get school stuff sorted out for tomorrow…" A'isha glanced at the analog clock on a nearby wall: 7.56 PM, "…a-and it _is_ getting late."

"Then, please, allow me to walk you back," Marik intervened, only exasperating A'isha further.

She scowled at Marik but, after glancing at his brother and sister, she reluctantly agreed. "Thank you for the lovely dinner, Ishizu. It was yum. And it was nice to meet you both!" She waved, before almost jogging out of the room with Marik right behind her.

Marik overtook Ish to open the front door for her, smirking almost triumphantly all the while. He eyed her mockingly as she glared venomous daggers at him. She stormed at onto the patio and shivered as the night-time air mercilessly clawed at her skin.

"Well," Marik began in a satisfied tone, "that was fun." He chuckled menacingly.

A'isha grimaced at him, her cold hands diving into her coat's pockets as she began to walk along the pathway that led the sidewalk, where she would cross the road to her house. She paused, however, upon feeling cold, metal coins and silky notes against her skin. Her frown grew. "I have your money," she spat.

Marik's eyes widened in slight shock.

"What?" she hissed. "Did you _not_ think I'd pay you back?"

Marik breathed out a sigh, shaking his head dismissively. "I thought you'd believe tonight's entertainment to be payment enough," he quipped with a smirk.

"While damn true," she spat, "I'm not that kind of person…so just take the freaking money." She shoved the change hard against his chest and he awkwardly accepted it.

A shaky, stressed sigh left A'isha's lips. "I think I can walk across the street." Her next words were laced with sarcasm, "And don't take this personally, but I'm sick to death of that mocking smirk and that little conniving laugh and…and—" A'isha huffed, clenching her eyes shut for a brief moment.

Marik only chuckled. "I shall see you in the morning." He smirked, only causing A'isha to shudder. She wasn't looking forward to school one bit. She hoped with all her being that he wouldn't be in any of her classes.

"Good. Night." she forced through clenched teeth.

A hypnotic reply echoed throughout her mind, causing her to shake once more. _**/Good night, my dear A'isha./**_

* * *

Oh ho ho! Marik, you little jerk, you! But that's partially why we love him, no? Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Because I love torturing A'isha. She's my fave OC to write! And thanks a heap to those who reviewed the last chapter, although I'm a little sad that I haven't received more reviews than that considering the amount if hits the chapter got... Remember, guys, reviews are very rewarding and much appreciated! :)


	6. Chapter 5: The First Day

What's this? An... An update? Yes, I'm currently thinking the same thing. Your eyes don't deceive you! I have rewritten another chapter of TWME! I just can't wait to get to the new stuff I _haven't_ written yet. There are some new scenes I intend on adding into these rewritten chapters though, so look out for them (if you can even remember old TWME _that_ well). But anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter of **Toying With My Emotions**!

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE  
The First Day**

"I'm telling you, Mar!" A'isha groaned after spitting out her toothpaste and rinsing her mouth. "He's a psychotic, manipulative, two-faced little jerk!" She glanced at Amara, who was paying more mind to applying her eye shadow than to listening to A'isha's words.

"Just listen!" she growled, examining Amara in the bathroom mirror that they stood before. "Has he ever known things that no one should? Have you ever thought that you heard a creepy laugh in your head? Have you seen—"

A'isha froze mid-sentence as a creepy laugh echoed through _her_ mind. "Quit it!" she suddenly hissed, earning a weird look from Amara. "You've been bugging me all morning and I'm sick of it!"

"What the heck have I done other than _ignore_ you?" Amara screeched. Only then did A'isha's cheeks begin to burn as she realized she'd spoken out loud. "What are you _on_, you freak?"

Another chuckle. **_/I agree with little Amara./_**

_I didn't ask for your opinion,_ A'isha hissed back. She cleared her throat as she leaned over to open the cupboard below the bathroom sink, then removed her make up bag and dumped it on the bench. As she unzipped the item and began to search for her liquid foundation, she realized Amara hadn't supplied an answer to her question. "Well _has_ he ever known something he couldn't have known?"

Amara heaved a dramatic sigh as she applied false lashes onto her left eye. A'isha didn't know why the girl was bothering with false lashes; they were going to school for Pete's sake! All she ever wore was foundation, blush and a single coat of mascara.

"If he ever has known something he couldn't have it's called a _coincidence_ – not mind reading!"

**_/See why I befriended the foolish girl? She's pathetically easy to manipulate./_**

_Leave me alone, you creep!_

**_/But the fun has barely begun,/_** Marik replied with a dark chuckle. She could imagine Sir Jerk-A-Lot vividly in her mind – his mocking smirk making her stomach churn in fear and frustration; eyes gleaming with amusement as they laughed down at her like she was the most pathetic thing they'd ever seen. The image only heightened her frustration. She shook her head sharply, as though the action would shake that image from her brain. Sadly, it didn't.

A growl itched at the back of her throat. "He read my mind, Amara!" she cried. "Why can't you just trust—"

"Oh my God, Ish!" Amara snapped. "Listen to yourself! Can't you see how nuts you sound?" She paused to examine herself in the mirror. She continued upon feeling satisfied with what she saw. "Why have you got it in for Marik? Like, seriously. Are you jelling or something? Cause it's not my fault that so many guys—"

"Get over yourself, Miss Vanity," she hissed before coating strawberry chap-stick across her lips.

"Get screwed, you stupid slut!" Amara snapped back.

"Look up slut in the Urban Dictionary and I assure you it won't be _my_ name that comes up." She half-expected Amara to miss the insult.

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Oh, I'm so offended." A'isha rolled her eyes after applying a coat of mascara. But she stiffened when an irritatingly familiar voice spoke up.

**_/I'm genuinely impressed,/_** Marik spoke up. He chortled briefly before continuing. **_/Amara's description is rather accurate./_**

_Bite me,_ A'isha countered as she stormed out of the room, make up bag in hand. She wouldn't risk returning it to its former location beneath the bathroom cupboard; Amara wouldn't think twice before nabbing her stuff.

**_/Where?/_** he challenged.

_Right on the ass._

**_/Perhaps I'll take you up on that offer when I arrive in ten minutes time./_**

He laughed when she stopped, like his words had suddenly glued her feet to the floor beneath her. "What?" she voiced aloud. Despair dripped from the single word.

**_/I drive little Amara to school each morning,/_** Marik replied with a laugh. **_/I imagine you will join us. You're not familiar with the route to Alexandria High and it's quite the walk./_**

A'isha groaned. _Lucky me._

* * *

Ten minutes later, three precise knocks resonated through the two story house, a second's space between each one. A crazed squeal immediately followed as rushed footsteps upon the wooden floor met Ish's ears.

"Be right there!" Amara cried happily.

A'isha scoffed. _Her obsession with Sir Jerk-A-Lot makes me wanna barf,_ she thought bitterly. _Is she this excited every time he shows up?_

A'isha retrieved her back pack from her bedroom, hid her make up bag in a handbag in her wardrobe, and then examined herself in the full length mirror that hung from her closet door. She wore an emerald green and plum purple striped tank top with a pair of lilac skinny jeans and black converse. A long-sleeved, black cardigan completed the outfit, hiding two-week-old bruises that had faded to a dull shade of green. Her long, black hair was tied in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. She nodded, silently deeming her appearance acceptable.

Ish glanced at her double bed, hardly aware of the solemn sigh that had just left her lips. She had managed to savour two—maybe three—hours of sleep last night. Twisted memories surrounding the night of her parents passing haunted her dreams. The night had drudged by so painfully slowly that she had even caught herself wishing for Marik to talk to her with his creepy mind powers, if only to steer her thoughts away from the past.

She could hear Amara squealing downstairs, presumably babbling away about something stupid to Marik, and she couldn't help but feel self-pity as she realized she'd have to endure _that_ all the way to her new school, on top of putting up with Marik.

A'isha heaved a sigh in a failed attempt to calm her nerves. She took hesitant steps to her bedroom door and along the hallway. She paused at the top of the staircase. Marik's attention diverted to her and away from the clucky girl beside him, who was no doubt babbling on about something he cared nothing about. His eyes met hers in an instant, the ice within their lavender depths making her whole body grow cold, a shiver of fear slithering through her and freezing her feet to the floor.

A kind smile graced Marik's lips, but she could see past the false warmth it held. Not that she needed to. He unfortunately had no qualms about revealing his true nature to her anyway. "Good morning, A'isha," he greeted, the calmness of his voice filling her with unease. His eyes narrowed. "I trust you slept well?"

"Actually," A'isha drawled, resting an elbow upon the rail that separated her from the front entrance below, "I had this _major_ headache for some strange reason." She cupped her chin into her palm in false thought. "As though someone had been messing around with my head."

She could see he was fighting back a smirk. "I'm sure you'll get used to it."

She straightened. "I'd rather they just stopped," she hissed as she began to march down the stairs. She came to a halt before her company.

Amara quirked a brow. "What are you guys going on about?"

A'isha smiled sweetly at the blond. "Yeah, Marik; what _are_ we talking about?"

Marik laughed almost angelically. A'isha half-mindedly clenched her fists, imagining them colliding with his cheeks. Her knuckles were quickly beginning to go white. "Very well, Ish." He turned to Amara and gripped her shoulders gently. "Mar, last night A'isha came over for dinner—" His eyes flashed mischievously "—and she feels as though she has a headache from all the reading we did on our study date—"

"Study date?!" the two girls squawked simultaneously. Amara's eyes narrowed on A'isha, who wore an expression of complete and utter disbelief.

"You said you hated Marik!"

"I _do_," A'isha cried, flailing her arms in the air for emphasis. "I only went over there to pay him back for the Indian food we had on Saturday night!" She mentally slapped herself at her own stupidity. Of course Marik would manipulate that opportunity to his advantage! She marched right up to him, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Why the hell would I study with _you_!?" Her index finger prodded his chest with her final word. "School hasn't even started yet!"

Marik remained calm. "Simple. You wanted a head start, to avoid being met by confusion in any of your classes."

A'isha scoffed. "That's total bullsh—!"

Marik gently pressed a finger to her lips, clucking his tongue softly as she glowered at him. The anger bubbling within her felt so strong it made her whole body ache, and that anger seemed to raise a notch with each cluck of his tongue.

"Now now, Ish," he murmured softly, an amused chuckle slipping through his lips. "Colourful language is unnecessary." She gripped his wrist and basically ripped his finger from her lips. He only found more amusement in her short-tempered nature.

"Whatever!" Her head hurt more than ever, like someone had wrenched a screwdriver into her brain and was slowly, painfully twisting it without mercy. She silently wished she had a pillow to scream all her frustrations into. "Can we just go already?!"

* * *

"Oh my gosh! And then there's Firas!" came Amara's squealing voice. "He is _so_ hot!"

A'isha rolled her eyes, sinking a little further into her seat with her arms folded across her chest. The headache Sir Jerk-A-Lot had so kindly gifted her with this past day was now returning, thanks to the narcissistic girl flailing about in the front passenger seat. _The nightmares don't exactly help either,_ she thought solemnly.

"The other day Firas introduced me to all his friends and I swear they were all so into me from the moment we met!"

A'isha glared daggers at Amara. _Maybe that's because they all know you're easy,_ she thought, wishing the girl would learn to shut up. A'isha looked at Marik, or rather the back of his head, as he was in the driver's seat directly ahead of her. Her bitter glare remained. Through the side mirror on the driver's door, she could see that his eyes were set on the road that snaked out before them, clearly focused on his driving. She wondered if he was even listening, because apart from an indifferent "Mm" every minute or so, he hadn't said a word. _Is it weird that I actually feel sorry for Mister High and Mighty right now?_

Ish absently looked out the window at the blur of buildings, trees and pedestrians they passed by.

Really, she was rather surprised that Marik was driving so responsibly. She had expected him to speed or something, thinking himself above the road rules, seeing as he seemed like one of those selfish bad boys. At least she had him pinned half-right, for he seemed to have "selfish" down to the 'T'.

"Oh," Amara voiced, slapping her forehead as though she was an idiot; A'isha wasn't about to dispute that. "How could I forget Dani?"

A'isha straightened. Her eyes left the view that rolled past and fell on her cousin. "There's a Dani at our school?"

Amara didn't bother to glance at A'isha. Instead she inspected her nails, coated in a fresh shade of hot pink nail polish. "Yeah," she drawled nonchalantly. "Not spelt like yours though. It's spelt D.A.N.I instead of D.A.N.N.Y." A'isha became a victim of her cousin's threatening stare. "And _don't_ get any funny ideas. This Dani's mine!"

Along with every other guy that makes up the student body. A'isha frowned, a foul memory now haunting her mind. "One ex-boyfriend named Danny is enough for me," she muttered, the view beyond her window now on the receiving end of a bitter glare.

"Yeah, well, my Dani is so into me," Amara enthused, clapping her hands as she looked over at Marik.

A'isha ground her teeth, hardly aware of her nails digging into the firm material of the backseat. She'd had enough of Amara's damn boy talk!

"He's so so soooo—"

"—not nearly as annoying as you?!" A'isha burst out, her fists flying through the air for emphasis. "Seriously, I've heard enough about all these supposedly horny guys to last me a lifetime!"

"Just because no guys are into you!" Amara snapped, glaring venomously at her.

A'isha scoffed. "I know that you know what you say isn't true! Guys were interested in me back in America!" she growled, eyes narrowed on Mar. "And I couldn't care less about guys if I tried! They're all arrogant, perverse jerkwads who don't give a toss about what women think or feel!" She slammed her fist into the back of the driver's seat, hardly caring that Marik wouldn't appreciate the action.

"Hellooooo!" Amara cried out dramatically. "Marik is in the car! And last time I checked he was a guy!"

A'isha laughed dryly. "Oh I bet you checked," she spat, disdain dripping from her voice.

Amara gasped, and then opened her mouth to retort with yet another useless piece of banter. But she was quickly interrupted.

"We're. Here." Marik forced through clenched teeth, his tone of voice tense and deliberate.

A'isha looked ahead of her, at Marik's frame upon the driver's seat. She hardly succeeded in suppressing an amused smirk at what she saw. By the tilt of his head, he seemed to be staring dead ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had drained of most of their colour. Ish decided to examine him further in the side mirror. She tensed instantly. His eyes hadn't been staring ahead like she had first thought. They were staring right back at her through that same mirror, clear displeasure burning within their depths, the emotion enhanced by his furrowed brows.

Ish shuddered, immediately shying away from his daunting stare and glancing out the window instead. She realized that Marik hadn't been lying when he'd said they had arrived at their destination. She silently thanked the gods, relieved that she didn't need to spend another second with either of them, at least until the trip home this afternoon. She decided to keep her mouth shut as she pushed the car door open, not wanting to say something that would continue the argument and prolong her departure from the car. She dragged her heavy leather backpack from the seat beside her as she left the vehicle, barely resisting the urge to slam the door shut behind her. Instead, she gently clicked it shut.

In an attempt to ease her nerves, A'isha inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled. But it didn't do her much good, for the slam of a car door made her groan and roll her eyes. She didn't need visual proof to know that Amara had slammed the passenger door and stormed off without a word.

Only when the calm click of a third door met her ears did she sling the backpack over her right shoulder.

"I assumed you would storm off in a tizzy like your cousin," Marik stated, a hint of confusion and curiosity etched through his suddenly calm voice.

A'isha briefly wondered how he had regained his calm composure so quickly.

She was a little insulted that he had expected her to be anything like her narcissistic cousin; though as they had just met, she supposed it made sense to label her as another Amara. "We're nothing alike." Her next two words went unsaid. _Not anymore._ She sighed, knowing that Marik may have heard her anyway, as he can somehow read minds.

A hearty laugh snapped A'isha from her thoughts. "Marik, my main man!" She was rather taken aback as a tall guy ran up behind Marik and wrapped a burly arm around the teen's shoulder.

The hand over the shoulder, A'isha had learned, was a guy's way of showing affection without running the risk of looking like a pansy. The male mind was a very strange thing, she decided.

"So what's up?" The guy's attention turned to A'isha, and he examined her for a moment, before revealing a charming smile. "And who's your beautiful company?"

Marik's eyes narrowed on his friend. "To you, Dani, she's off limits," he retorted almost bitterly.

A'isha noted that the guy's name was Dani—probably the guy Amara had spoken of. Then she quirked a brow at Marik's behavior. Was he being…_protective_?

"Keeping all the ladies for yourself, I see," he quipped, whacking Marik on the back.

Marik chuckled, much to A'isha's distaste. Shouldn't he be pointing out that they were _not_ an item? She frowned. If he wasn't about to, then she'd just have to do it for him. She started to open her mouth; however, her words had ended before they had even begun when Dani spoke up first.

"I have an assignment to hand in for Phys Ed, so I'll catch you guys at class." His smile was stunning, A'isha had to admit. It brightened up his whole face. "Catch you both later!" he stated, ending the conversation with a dismissive wave of his hand as he left the carpark for the school building that loomed overhead.

Once Dani was out of earshot, A'isha turned to face Marik. "Why did you say to him that I was off limits?" she demanded, rather than asked. "I would've thought you were being genuinely protective, but _then_ when he said that you were 'keeping all the ladies for yourself'—" Her eyes narrowed "—you didn't point out that we weren't an item."

Marik laughed wryly. "Who says I was protecting _you_?"

A'isha scoffed, riled by his insult. The jerk barely knew her! Who did he think he was, implying that Dani needed protecting from _her_!

Her body trembled with fury, her blood seeming to boil barely beneath her skin. She longed to silence Marik's laughter and regain at least a sliver of pride. Her grip on her backpack tightened, her knuckles quickly going white. That's when she realized—she was holding her backpack, which was full of heavy, dreary schoolbooks and stationary. She quickly formulated her plan of revenge. _I'll hit him where it counts._ She barely suppressed a smirk. _That'll give him something to laugh about._

With every ounce of strength A'isha had, she hurled the bag over her shoulders and towards his 'prized family jewels'.

Her breath hitched, her body stiffening and a blush grazing her cheeks, as she realized Marik had blocked the backpack before it had reached its target. Her grip on its strap tightened as she silently prayed he wouldn't snatch it up and play keep away. Her eyes trailed from her backpack to the smirking teen that still clutched it where he had stopped it mid-swing.

Marik chuckled, his grip on her bag remaining firm. "My my, A'isha," he pressed, his smirk stretching, "Day two of our little mind game and _already_ I control you."

A'isha made an attempt to yank her bag, but his grip didn't falter. Her eyes found his. Hers gleamed with raw defiance and a sliver of fear; his with unyielding mirth and arrogance.

"You don't control me."

His smirk grew. "Whoever angers you controls you," he breathed, eying her closely for even the slightest change in expression. Her face showed no change, but he could see her trembling slightly, her body conceding to anger at his words.

"Let go of my bag," she forced through clenched teeth, about ready to wrap her slender fingers around his neck and start shaking him about like in the cartoons.

In one fluid motion, Marik ripped the bag from her grasp and she could tell he enjoyed the look of panic that crossed her face. The mere thought of playing keep-away for her bag was taxing.

"Give it back!" A'isha snapped, lunging for the object.

He held it out behind him and out of her reach. She sure as heck wasn't about to climb over him for the dang thing!

She stomped her foot. "Give me the damn bag!"

Marik smiled a painfully sweet smile that only raised her fury another notch. "No." That sweet smile twisted into a smug grin as he proceeded to unzip the bag's front pocket, jerking it away from A'isha as she lunged for it once more. She bitterly resorted to grimacing at him with folded arms.

Marik glanced inside the pocket, before a satisfied chortle sounded at the back of his throat. "What's this, A'isha? Perhaps your timetable?" He removed the sheet of paper and unfolded it with a simple flick of his wrist. "I stand correct. I assume your cousin acquired this for you." He caught sight of a number combination scribbled onto the top left corner. "Along with your locker number and combination. _Perfect_."

A'isha grew uneasy at the scheming smirk he now wore. With her next words, her suspicions were sourly confirmed.

"Well, it seems that we have every single class together with the exception of Mathematics." He glanced at her. "I've completed that course, so I have that period free."

A'isha's whole body slumped. "Please tell me you're kidding and that this is your bad idea of a joke."

He shook his head thrice. "Gladly it isn't, Dear A'isha. . . Isn't this just perfect?" he taunted. "We'll certainly be best of friends!"

"Oh, how terribly special!" A'isha spat. _Emphasis on the word 'terribly._ She actually hoped he'd heard that thought. The fresh memory of her failure to hit him below-the-belt was quickly becoming more and more disappointing. She finally managed to snatch her schoolbag from Marik while he examined her timetable.

After a deep, somewhat soothing breath, A'isha forced what she hoped was a stern expression. She stared at Marik, her bag now slung over her shoulders once again. She held out an open hand. "My timetable," she stated in forced calmness.

Marik's sweet smile returned. "No," he stated, reminding her of a disobedient child. _His and Amara's friendship is suddenly beginning to make sense._

His laughing eyes were set on her fierce ones as he pocketed her timetable. **_/I'd much rather have you rely on me, My Dear./_**

A'isha clenched her fists, narrowly avoiding a shiver of fear that clawed up her spine. She knew he had said those words in her head to remind her that, even in her mind, he was there.

Her lips curved into a frown, though she tried to convince herself that it would do her at least a _little_ good to permit him to show her around. She knew Amara wasn't about to and no one else was offering. And if she retrieved the school map from her bag, Marik would probably try to snatch that up too. She sighed wearily. She was already exhausted and the day had barely begun; her bad night's sleep had certainly done her no favours.

"Shall we?" Marik asked, gesturing to the school building beyond the car park.

A'isha grimaced at the blond, before a small sigh of defeat left her lips. "Let's get this over with," she muttered, allowing him to lead her to their first class of the day: French.

* * *

A'isha had found the floor incredibly interesting the moment she'd entered the building, at Marik's side. Eyes were on her wherever she went, as though she were a drag queen gaily parading through the corridors. Conversations would die as she and Marik passed, before breaking out into secretive murmurs once they were out of earshot. Ish's stomach churned as she wondered what they were all whispering. Did she even _want_ to know? It'd probably just make her feel worse.

Marik had pointed out the Cafeteria on the way to her locker, where she took the opportunity to lighten her backpack by storing away her workbooks for Biology and History—they were her fourth and fifth period classes, so she could fetch them during her lunch break.

Ironically, her locker was only five to the left of Marik's; though A'isha had a sneaking suspicion that it was really no coincidence. First, they had all the same classes; now their lockers were merely a few feet from each other. _It wouldn't surprise me if the desk beside his was miraculously the only free one in every class, _she thought with a bitter huff.

Another thing A'isha had learned was that Marik is a very popular guy. She already knew that Amara was one of the most popular girls in her grade—the grade below A'isha's. She found that fact _ridiculously_ sad! But with that fact in mind, should Marik's popularity really have been so shocking when he and Amara were 'friends'?

_I guess not,_ she concluded.

She had also learned that Amara wasn't his only drooling fangirl, so to speak. A significant portion of the female student body had greeted Marik in a shy or flirty way, whilst shooting curious or envious glares at her. She knew she'd already made a few enemies. That thought only heightened her anxiety. Other students, both girls and guys, had at least greeted him as he'd passed them by. _Either most of the student body is dense, or he is one hell of an actor!_

The bell would be going off in five, so Marik was merrily leading her to their first class. He had the sweetest smile plastered on his face, acting so genuine towards her while in the presence of others that —had she not known any better— she would've almost thought him sincere.

"You'll love Mister Hendricks," Marik was saying. "His method of teaching is very easy to follow and his sense of humour makes class quite pleasant."

"Makes class pleasant?" She laughed dryly. "Maybe Mister Hendricks should teach you his ways," she muttered.

**_/And give you his sense of humour,/_** Marik returned, flashing a smirk. A second later it was gone.

A'isha rolled her eyes, trying and failing to seem unfazed by his snarky remarks. His mock sweetness was bugging her to no end, making her really appreciate her own respectable acting skills, for her acting seemed to be the only thing keeping her hot-headedness in check. Without it, she would've leapt out the nearest window long ago.

"Hey Marik!" a clique of girls called out, but this group actually approached them, much to A'isha's distaste. She subtly inched behind him, her blue eyes searching the corridor as though she were lost in thought, when in reality she was silently praying that the girls would ignore her completely and pay all mind to Mister High and Mighty. A satisfied smirk started to tug at her lips. It seemed to be working.

A moment later, A'isha straightened as she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned half a circle to be met by a striking smile; she immediately recognised it as Dani's.

"Hi there," he spoke in a deep voice. She blushed, all too aware of her weakness for deep, masculine voices.

"Uhh… Hi…"

Dani rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes dropped to the ground. She found his shyness oddly adorable. "You know I… I didn't introduce myself before, and I felt kind of rude when I realised." Her uneasiness evaporated the second his eyes met hers, revealing their sky blue hue to her. "The name's Daniel." With a warm smile, he extended a friendly hand. "But everyone calls me Dani."

"A'isha," she stated, gladly accepting his handshake. A hint of guilt etched its way into her mind. She had labelled him as another arrogant jerk because he was friends with Marik, but now he didn't seem so bad. "But you can call me Ish." She shrugged. "It's way easier to say."

He grinned. "A'isha, but I can call you Ish. Got it!"

A'isha caught herself wondering if he really did have a thing for Amara. Not for any personal reasons; he just didn't seem like the type of guy to fall for her crazy, clueless cousin. Perhaps Amara was seeing what she wanted to see, caught up in her own little fantasy world where everything revolved around her. She rolled her eyes. _Wouldn't be the first time._

Dani raised a hand to his chin in thought. "You're Amara's cousin, right?" he asked with no preamble.

_Here we go,_ she thought, dismissing any prior opinions she'd made of him. "If you want her number, a date or something like that, go ask her yourself," she muttered as her hands found her hips. "I am _not_ a matchmaker."

Dani blinked twice, dumb-founded; then realisation crossed his face. "Oh no no no no! She is _not_ my type! She's too, uhh, girly and glitzy for me."

He flashed an embarrassed smile, seeming to be fighting back more words to describe Amara. Perhaps he thought she'd become upset if he called Amara names, but she most certainly would _not_!

"I just want to know if the rumour's true," he continued, sweeping a hand through his neatly gelled golden hair. "And I guess I was kinda trying to make conversation."

"There's a rumour going around that Amara and I are cousins?"

"You've got it, sister!"

A'isha had to laugh. She enjoyed being in the company of bubbly, humorous individuals, and he seemed to make the cut. "Yeah; the rumour's true."

"Really?" Dani burst out, eyes wide in shock.

"Our dads are brothers . . . Identical twins, in fact."

"But you look nothing alike," he insisted. "I mean, Amara is probably about five foot three. You look to be about five nine. Your face shape is completely different. Plus she has hazel eyes, while yours are dark blue."

A'isha blushed at his final words, a little flattered that he'd noticed her eye colour in such a short space of time. "Well we have the same nose," she pointed out, tapping hers gently. "Ours both even crinkle up when we smile. . . But I must say I'm impressed by your observation. I think someone deserves a gold star!"

"Fist pump!" Dani enthused while concurrently acting out his words. "That makes fifty three!" He beamed down at her like a child, baring a look of innocence that few held onto through to adulthood.

A'isha laughed wholeheartedly. It was wonderful to actually share a pleasant conversation with someone who liked to jest as much as she did. _Minus the insults like my self-proclaimed escort._

"Having fun, I see," came a mockingly sweet and increasingly familiar voice.

_And thinking of my self-proclaimed escort,_ A'isha thought, barely withholding a bitter glare in front of Dani. She failed to sustain a warm smile. "Quit it, Marik!" Couldn't she enjoy a pleasant conversation for just five minutes without Sir Jerk-A-Lot butting in?

Marik looked taken aback. Damn, he's good! "What—Did I-Did I do something to upset you?" He sought out her hand, making her tense. His hand was way bigger than hers, and his skin was surprisingly warm and soft in comparison to his cold and cruel personality. "I'm sorry, Ish." His thumb drew circular motions across her palm. "I want nothing more than to see you smile and laugh. As I've said in the past—" He flashed a small smile "—_your_ happiness is my own…"

A'isha blinked twice, her expression a mirror image of the one Marik had worn only moments ago, the only difference being that her shock was real. He sounded like a concerned boyfriend, offering her words of faith to help convince her that what they had was real. _Oh, the irony…_ she thought, painfully lashing away the anger that clawed at her form, desperately begging to be succumbed to.

The blare of the school bell sounded through the corridor, hauling A'isha from her thoughts.

"Come on, Ish!" Marik insisted, lacing their hands together. She frantically wriggled her fingers in a desperate attempt to loosen his grip on her hand so she could rip it from his grasp, but he held on tight. He basically dragged her in what she assumed was the direction of their French class, leaving a wide-eyed Dani staring after them. He was no doubt under the impression that she and Marik were dating.

_I didn't even get to say goodbye to the guy!_ She huffed, eying the blond that dragged her. _Peachy… Just peachy!_

She couldn't handle much more of this. And she hoped against hope that Dani wasn't the gossiping type.

* * *

Phoo wee. So that's the original chapter seven and half of eight rewritten. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Marik's smexy midriff compels you all to review and tell me what you thought! There will be carrot cake (and the carrot was totally grated on Marik's abs). Ahh, gotta love Yu-Gi-Oh abridged. ;D


	7. Chapter 6: The First Day II

Howdy ho guys. Back with another update. Woo! Sorry about the long AN below but I just have a few things I'd like to clear up before you guys start reading the school-centred portion of this fic.

**AN: **I just have a few notes surrounding A'isha's schooling. Firstly, I'm not familiar with Egypt's schooling (subjects, timetables, school hours, semesters, etc.), so I'm sticking to New Zealand's because it's what I know. It won't mess up the story at all or create confusion, so I don't think anyone will be bothered. I just want to save myself a lot of confusion by eliminating the risk of inaccuracies in this story. I'd probably mess something up if I tried to write by Egypt's system. I _will_ stick to Egypt's semesters though. There are two semesters in a year, and four school terms. The first day of a school year is generally early in September.

Secondly, Alexandria High School is fictional; though there probably _is_ a school in Alexandria with a similar name, my inspiration is not stemming from it.

Lastly, Alexandria High is an English-speaking school. There are a lot of international schools in Egypt so this is not far-fetched. A'isha's father was Arabic and A'isha _does_ know how to speak the language, but she also speaks English because she grew up in America and her mother's first language was English. Same goes for Amara's mother, Aunt Elissa, who is British. Amara's father is A'isha's father's twin brother, so naturally he spoke Arabic as a first language. -sheds tear at having to use past tense when referring to Ish's parents-

Now onto the fun part! Enjoy chapter six of **Toying With My Emotions**!

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**CHAPTER SIX  
The First Day II**

The door opened at Marik's hand. "Ladies first," he coaxed with a sweet smile. A'isha ground her teeth despite her efforts to seem unfazed. That mocking smile was becoming more and more maddening each time he showed it.

"Thank you, Marik." She forced a smile of her own as she passed him by, half expecting his hand to 'slip' and send the door slamming into her, along with copious amounts of embarrassment; but she reminded herself that embarrassing her so obviously didn't seem to be his style. So far, his methods at infuriating her revealed that he enjoyed a more subtle approach, so others would think nothing of his actions…or even find them _sweet_.

She was sure she saw a smirk tug at his lips, but if it had been there it was gone just as quickly. Her fingers twitched, begging to be curled into trembling fists manipulated by anger, but she refused to give Marik any more satisfaction. Not that it mattered. One peek at her mind and he'd know he was driving her mad…and by the second-long smirk he'd just flashed her way, he didn't even need to go _that_ far to see she was silently fuming. His ability to read people seemed to be just as good as his ability to brass them off.

A'isha examined her French class in a desperate attempt to dismiss these thoughts. It looked like any other classroom, with lone desks lined in rows down the length of the room. Naturally, they faced the whiteboard at the front of the class. The teacher's desk was nestled away in the corner, the whiteboard on the desk's left and a window on its right. This window stretched along the length of the room, looking over the lush school field and the bustling city traffic beyond that.

She made a mental note to sit nowhere near the window. She's a dreadful daydreamer and the window would only fuel that trait. She _had_ to concentrate… She _had_ to work hard on her grades and make her parents proud. _For once…_ she thought; then shook her head slightly to forget it. All it had done was sour her mood even more so.

A few computers sat untouched at the back of the class; a few shelves were beside them, neatly stacked with what she assumed were dictionaries, thesauruses and workbooks. The white walls were lined with posters baring French-to-English translations, student's presentations, and pictures of famous French landmarks.

"Monsieur Ishtar," a welcoming voice lurched A'isha from her thoughts. "And you must be Mademoiselle Dahar!" She came face-to-face with a lean man with a moustache. He had quite a few wrinkles, but his hair, though balding, was not completely grey. Ish figured he was around the age of fifty. He revealed a warm smile that she welcomed with immense enthusiasm, after being met by Marik's smirks and mock smiles all morning.

"Yes, I am." She returned the smile. "My name's A'isha."

"Mister Hendricks." He offered a friendly hand, which she shook without hesitation. "I'm thrilled to have you in my class! I was looking through the report your old school sent me and I must say I'm impressed by your grades." His smile widened. "I'm sure you'll be a pleasure to teach!"

Ish was genuinely flattered. "Thanks! French is one of my favourite subjects," she enthused. _Because I'm actually good at it._

"Fantastique," Mister Hendricks enunciated, adopting an impressive French accent. "Voulez-vous vous présenter à la classe en français?"

He was asking her to introduce herself to the class in French. Only a few students had arrived, so she assumed she'd have to wait for the remaining students before her introduction would take place. She swallowed hard. The prospect of throwing herself in front of a bunch of strangers and risking an embarrassing screw up was daunting, to say the least. But perhaps if she made a good impression, making friends would be a little easier.

"Oui, Monsieur Hendricks."

A briefly forgotten voice met her ears. "Bonne chance, Mademoiselle Dahar." It was Marik wishing her good luck, wearing an increasingly annoying smile. She briefly imagined slapping it right off his pretty boy face and the resulting expression of shock that would cause.

But instead, she simply nodded. She reminded herself that if Mister Hendricks hadn't been beside her, she would've glared and said she didn't need his luck. Imagining wasn't nearly as satisfying as actually doing it.

A'isha watched as the infuriating _boy_ left her side to seat himself at the back of the class beside the window, wrapping the straps of his bag around the back of his seat and pulling out his stationary. He began to scribble on a piece of paper, and it looked like he was doodling, but she couldn't quite tell from the front of the class.

"So why did you move to Egypt, Miss Dahar?"

A'isha quickly looked at her questioner instead of the blond teen. She felt a little awkward when she realised she'd been staring at Marik for more than five seconds without sending him a death glare.

"Uhh… I…" As she processed her teacher's question, a painful memory took hold. Her whole body felt numb as she succumbed to feelings of guilt and grief; two emotions that could only be forgotten for so long before they would rear their ugly heads her way. She hated feeling this way, but she tried to accept it… _It was my fault… I deserve the pain...the guilt..._

"M-My parents…" Her voice was shaky and her eyes glistened with tears. "Th-They…"

Mister Hendricks' face showed signs of guilt, suggesting that he had found an answer amid her stutters. "I'm sorry, Miss Dahar…I didn't realise you had moved here on tragic circumstances."

"It's okay, Sir," she whispered solemnly, her eyes quickly finding the ceiling.

In Elementary School, A'isha's former best friend had ended up moving across the country, leaving A'isha feeling crushed and alone. She remembered how much her sorrow had pained her parents, so one day her father had shown her an article he'd found on the internet. It had read that looking up with your eyes alone—so without moving your head—helped to keep tears at bay. A'isha had thought the information seemed random and a little far-fetched… but these past two weeks, she had found truth in that article more times than she could count. This was one of those times, and she dearly appreciated her father's thoughtfulness in showing it to her. She found it a little funny how things that seem so trivial end up mattering _years_ after they even happened. _If only I'd appreciated them when it counted the most._

Without warning, her head tingled ever-so-slightly. She could only feel it if she concentrated… but when she did, it felt like a hundred pins and needles sinking into her skull, reminding her of that weird feeling she got whenever she'd sit on her foot for too long. She felt uneasy, having never experienced that feeling in her _head_.

Swallowing hard, her blue eyes left the ceiling to be met by two piercing lavender pools. He was staring at her, his expression unreadable . . . and then it clicked. He was reading her mind right now. He _had been_ when she'd been remembering her father's thoughtful deed.

A'isha stiffened. He'd heard her thinking that she should've appreciated them when it actually mattered...and must have just heard her realising this too. She caught herself trembling with fury and fear. How dare he invade her mind! How dare he help himself to such personal information! She couldn't bear to tell her _family_ these things, let alone this arrogant kalet who'd without a doubt use the knowledge for his own pathetic amusement!

_Get out of my head! _she roared within her mind, her eyes burning into his. His eyes remained void of any expression as they dropped to the sheet of paper on his desk once more. A second later, the tingling feeling was gone. She watched him as he continued to doodle, silently shocked at his cooperation.

Then she noticed something that made her stomach sink. The only free desk was the one in front of Marik's. She ground her teeth. _That's no coincidence._ His head was still down as he doodled, so she settled for glaring daggers at his blond head of hair. It was nowhere near as satisfying. _What other torture does that bastard have in store for me?!_

A'isha was jolted from her bitter thoughts by Mister Hendricks. "Bonjour, students," he stated with a cheery smile. "Did everyone have a great weekend?"

There were a few _yeah's _and _uh huh's_ from his students, though much to A'isha's distaste, everyone's eyes were on her as she stood sheepishly beside their teacher.

"Great! Now today we have a new student who has moved here all the way from America! I trust that you will all make her feel welcomed." He turned to face her. "Why don't you introduce yourself to us in French, Miss Dahar?"

A'isha nodded curtly as her hands sunk into her pockets, an old habit she fell back to whenever she felt nervous. Her eyes fell on her classmates, most of them watching her with intrigue. She made a mental note to avoid Marik's gaze, knowing she'd go blank if her eyes _did_ meet his. "Bonjour tout le monde. Je m'appelle A'isha. J'ai seize ans et je suis originaire de Los Angeles, Etats-Unis. Mes hobbies sont la danse et le chant et mon plat préféré est beurré pop-corn." **

"Fantastique, A'isha," Mister Hendricks praised. His hazel eyes glanced at a brunette girl whose hand was waving in the air frantically. "It seems Khloe has a question for you."

"Uhh…Okay," A'isha said simply, flashing a small smile at the girl.

Khloe returned the smile. "Are you really Amara's cousin?" She examined A'isha. Whether she was looking her over sincerely or with negative intentions, A'isha couldn't be sure.

Ish sighed, certain she'd detest that sentence by lunch time. "Yes, I am." Hopefully this girl was a gossiper and would save A'isha the trouble of answering that question all day.

Mister Hendricks raised a brow at the rather trivial question, before gesturing to the empty seat in front of Marik. "You may sit beside Marik, as he seems to have taken on the role of showing you around the school."

A'isha heaved a if sitting in front of Mister High and Mighty wasn't enough, the desk was right beside that cursed window too.

"I'm sure Monsieur Ishtar will be happy to help you out in this class as well," her teacher continued.

A'isha thought she caught a faint glow upon the man's forehead, but attributed it to a simple trick of the florescent lights overhead. She narrowly suppressed a begrudging look as she began to make her way to her seat.

"I'll do anything to help her get settled into the class, Monsieur Hendricks," Marik reassured, grinning eagerly as he watched her approaching form.

_Oh, I'm sure you will, _A'isha thought cynically as she sunk into her chair, dumping her bag on the floor beside her. She pulled out her stationary, consisting of a new exercise book, a French workbook and her pencil case. She unzipped the case and searched for her blue ballpoint pen.

"Okay, class. You know the drill. First lesson of the week we always tell a classmate how our weekend was, in French." Mister Hendricks smiled knowingly. "And don't stick to the same sentences as last week, guys."

Everyone began to chat to a friend in French, while their teacher pulled out a green marker and began to write up their next activity on the whiteboard.

A'isha felt a tap on her shoulder. _Here we go,_ she thought with a roll of her eyes. She set down her pen and shifted in her seat to look at Marik. He wasn't even bothering to hide a smirk now, not that onlookers would find it suspicious when it looked like she and Marik were talking. He could've been smirking at something she said.

"How was your weekend, Miss Dahar?" Marik enunciated in perfect French. He even had the accent down to a T, and she found his perceptible skill at French disappointing. It would have been nice to be better than him at it, so she could turn the tables and be on the delivering end of the smugness. Not that she was saying she was _worse_than him. Her accent and knowledge of the French language was admirable as her third language, next to English and Arabic.

"I don't talk to imbeciles," she returned with ease.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not an imbecile, isn't it?"

A'isha faked a short laugh. "Nice joke."

Marik didn't frown like she'd hoped; in fact, his smirk grew.

"You're so predictable, Dear A'isha."

She huffed. "And you're an imbecile."

"Est-ce que la limitation de votre vocabulaire français? 'Imbecile'." He sneered. "Je pense que Monsieur Hendricks vous donne beaucoup trop de crédit."

A'isha began to piece together his words. _Limitation…Vocabulary…Je pense means 'I think'…Beaucoup means 'a lot'…Credit is pretty obvious…_ She translated his words in seconds. 'Is that the limitation of your French vocabulary? 'Imbecile' I think Mister Hendricks gives you too much credit.' As the words sunk in, she sent a dark glare at the still-sneering teen just as Mister Hendricks spoke up.

"Okay, class. Now I would like you to individually work on the activities listed on the board."

_**/It seems Mister Hendricks has saved you from further humiliation in spoken French, My Dear,/**_ Marik stated, this time in English. He smirked, his eyes flashing deviously. _**/But our conversation is far from over. . ./**_

And he was right. French crept by at an agonising pace. Marik wouldn't shut up! He was constantly distracting her with his freaky mind powers, then enjoying the painfully obvious suffering his taunting triggered.

Ish had quickly learnt to avoid answering any questions Mister Hendrick's would ask the class, fearing she would go blank mid-sentence like she had only ten minutes into the lesson, all thanks to the creepy jerk behind her. Her cheeks had flushed red in an instant, burning from humiliation as all eyes had fallen on her. She must have looked _so_ _stupid_!

Mister Hendrick's liked to ask them questions to make sure they were thinking. Oh, she was thinking…but not about work like she desperately wanted to! Oh no… She was thinking about Mister High and Mighty. He was all she _could_ think about! Hell, how could she possibly think about anything else when his voice was continuously echoing through her mind?

The only thing that made her remotely happy at this stage was that she hadn't shouted something out by accident, like back in the bathroom with Amara that morning. Although, there was always her next class…or the one after that…or the one after that. The only class they didn't share was Mathematics, because he's already completed the course and has that period free; but she knew he'd talk to her anyway.

Her next class had been English with Missus McCaffery, a middle-aged brunette with a bright smile and colourful clothing to match. She had welcomed A'isha into her class with open arms. Ish already loved the woman and she had quickly learnt as class progressed that Missus McCaffery had a great sense of humour, cracking some jokes that were rather questionable for a school teacher but got the whole class laughing nonetheless. A'isha was sure she would've enjoyed English class if it hadn't been for the chilling voice hissing through her mind the whole lesson.

The desks in her class were arranged in twos, and funnily enough the only free seat had been the one beside Marik. The sweet smile he'd worn as she'd slumped into the seat beside him had left her shaking slightly, barely suppressing yet another bout of rage.

A'isha was beginning to think she would never make friends. Not even _one_. She couldn't risk starting a conversation with a classmate, fearing that Marik would somehow mess it up and simply embarrass her further.

One time in English, Ish was sure a blonde girl the teacher had called Karissa was about to start a conversation. Karissa was in the seat in front of hers, and had turned to face her, a friendly smile gracing her features…but a moment later A'isha was nearly certain she had glimpsed a golden glow upon Karissa's temple, before the blonde had turned back to her desk and continued to work. A'isha had glanced at Marik after that, sure that he'd had something to do with Karissa's strange behaviour. His reaction had been to simply raise a blond brow and play dumb. And as much as she'd _love_ to describe him as 'dumb' and have the word ring true, she knew better.

A'isha remembered passing the school office on the way to French, so she tried to use morning interval to obtain her locker number and a copy of her timetable from the office lady. One golden glow upon the woman's forehead and she was telling A'isha that the details of her timetable had mysteriously disappeared from the schools computers. A'isha knew Marik had something to do with this; those strange glows were _not _a trick of the light!

Of course, Marik had followed her to the office and reassured the woman that his timetable was the same as A'isha's, aside from her Maths class, which wasn't until first period tomorrow anyway. The woman had suggested that she could stick with Marik and return after school to try to sort out this "little mishap". A'isha was _not_ impressed.

_What the hell is your problem?!_ she snapped at the teen on her right, who was leading her to their next class. As much as she hated asking Marik this in her head, she hated the idea of passers-by thinking she was a hot-headed psycho even more.

_**/I'm simply helping a fellow student settle into her new school./**_ The underlying scorn in his voice certainly didn't go unnoticed.

_Cut the crap, Marik!_ Her eyes narrowed on the blond. _Why are you doing this?_

_**/What fun is there in a game that gives you all the answers?/**_

_This isn't a damn game!_

_**/I can assure you, Dear A'isha, that you'll have plenty of time to find your answers./ **_He chuckled when A'isha's glare strengthened a notch. _**/But might I suggest that, right now, it would be more prudent of you to focus your energy on our upcoming lesson./**_

_Which is?_ A'isha would've hoped for Maths so she could at least not have to _look_ at his increasingly irritating face, but Marik had already confirmed back in the office that her Maths class wasn't until first period tomorrow.

_**/Why, it is the class that I've been looking forward to all day!/**_ He revealed a charming smile, seemingly innocent to any on-lookers they passed by in the corridors. _**/Drama./**_

_If our assignment requires a partner and I'm stuck with _you_, I'm jumping out the nearest window and swimming back to America._

He actually straight up laughed, and for a second she wondered if it had even been _genuine_. _**/Well I would love to see you try./**_

A'isha was silent; then, _I wasn't joking._

He faked a sugary smile. _**/Nor was I./**_

* * *

Miss Mutton made A'isha's English teacher seem depressed in comparison. The pretty brunette, who looked to be in her late twenties, had greeted A'isha with an extraordinary amount of enthusiasm. A'isha didn't believe in destiny…but if anyone were destined to be a drama teacher, it would be this woman. Her enthusiasm had Ish thinking she would convey character emotions well and still keep the class interested.

Marik had told A'isha that this class was one of two rooms they used for drama; this one was for practical work, while the classroom merely a door to the left had desks for theory work. Twenty one students made up her drama class and they all sat cross-legged upon the wooden floor, looking up at Miss Mutton as she informed them of their first exercise.

"Today we're going to start of the lesson with some improvisation, guys!" Miss Mutton announced from upon the seat behind her desk. "Remember there are no right or wrong answers here, so to speak. We're just having fun with this." She reached inside a drawer on her right and pulled out a shoebox. "Now I've got our prompts here." She shook the box. "You'll be performing your prompts in front of the class and this _isn't_ a monologue exercise, so you'll need a partner." She rose from her chair, shoebox in hand, and asked that one person from every duo come and claim their prompt.

_**/What say you, partner?/**_ Marik quipped, glancing sideways to smirk at her.

_Shoot me now._

_**/But I still need you./**_

_That was sarcasm, genius. _She briefly wondered what he had meant by _needing_ her; then remembered this 'little game' of theirs, as he so irksomely called it.

_**/Genius?/ **_He chuckled within her mind._** /Thank you for noticing./**_

A'isha rolled her eyes. _Go get the prompt,_ she almost barked, surprised when Marik complied without even one more cocky remark. He flashed a small smile at Miss Mutton, and then said something that made her chuckle, clearly still embracing his own personal act as the charming popular guy. She couldn't hear what he'd said; however, she could certainly see the second-long smirk that had revealed itself the moment he'd read their prompt.

_Oh great._ She couldn't deny an uneasy frown. _If that prompt has him thrilled then I'm gonna have a mental breakdown when I read it._

Marik sat down beside her a few seconds later. "You're going to love this," he stated, barely masking his delight as he handed her the prompt. A'isha remained cross-legged, while Marik had bent his legs out before him, feet firmly sited upon the cool floor as he rested his bare arms on his knees.

A'isha silently read the sliver of paper and instantly paled.

'_**Person A**_ _owes a favour to __**Person B**__, who __**A**__ hates. __**B**__ wants __**A**__ to pose as their fiancée for a business dinner and __**A**__ has to go along with it. During the dinner, __**A **__and __**B**__'s dinner company ask them about their plans for having children.'_

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," she hissed so quietly only he could hear. Her irritation only heightened when Marik began to snicker beside her. Of course he thought this was absolutely hilarious. "Okay, seriously; shoot me now." She dropped the small piece of paper in his lap. "_Please._"

He only continued to smirk.

"Okay," Miss Mutton shouted out over her classmates' eager chitter chattering. The class hushed after a few seconds, save for a discreet whisper or two. "Has everyone got their prompt?"

Everyone replied with their own choice of a 'yes'.

"Great! Who'd like to go first?" She smiled, examining her students, who immediately found the wooden floor very intriguing. No doubt they were avoiding her gaze in fear of her choosing them, should they make eye contact.

"A'isha and I will go first!" Marik announced, raising his hand high.

_Of course we will,_ A'isha stated to him alone, not even remotely surprised by his willingness.

"Perfect!" Miss Mutton was clearly pleased at his enthusiasm. She gestured to the empty space behind them, at the centre of the room. "Grab any props you may need, set them up, and take the stage."

A'isha rose to her feet, fighting back a blush as all eyes fell on her—the new girl. The paranoid part of her bet that they were wondering how badly she sucked. Thankfully, she _didn't_; though Marik wasn't exactly putting her in the right frame of mind for acting. She reconsidered that thought. She _had_ been acting _civil_ all morning…That had to count for something!

_I'm guessing I'm Person A?_ she asked, heading towards their stage.

_**/Naturally./**_

A'isha watched as Marik handed Miss Mutton the prompt, then passed their "stage" to approach a small bench at the far corner of the room. He picked it up effortlessly and carried it over to their stage. He set it down, then glanced at her, immediately noticing her inquisitive look.

_**/We don't have a table or chairs,/**_ he answered,_** /so we can sit on the floor and use the bench as a make-shift table./**_ He sat on the floor in front of the bench, facing the class.

She followed suit. _That's got to be the least annoying thing you've said all day,_ she told him with a faint smirk.

Marik ignored her comment. Instead, he watched Miss Mutton, leaving A'isha confused. Why hadn't they started their act yet? She was debating whether this delay was welcomed or not. She settled on 'not' because she really just wanted to get this over and done with.

Her teacher soon supplied an answer to her silent question, reading out their prompt to the class, who snickered at the mention of discussing children. Their reactions only made her blush further, leaving her appreciative of her a dark complexion.

Miss Mutton eagerly shuffled forward in her seat. "Take it away, you two!"

"You'll have to at least pay attention if you want our little act to remain convincing," Marik taunted at a whisper, though loud enough for their audience to hear him.

A'isha realised her eyes were still on Miss Mutton. She looked left to find Marik staring at her. With narrowed eyes, she glanced opposite her at the empty space she imagined their company would be sitting. Her eyes met Marik's once more. "Can you really blame me?" She folded her arms across her chest, huffing bitterly. "It's not like this 'little act' of ours is terribly _thrilling_ for me."

"You always had a choice, A'isha." He revealed a cocky smirk. Something told her it wasn't forced. "You agreed to this little deal of ours."

"You bribed me!" she hissed, barely resisting the urge to fling her arms in the air for emphasis. If they really _did_ have company sitting across from them, said company would no doubt notice if her arms went flying through the air.

She looked opposite her. Their company was meant to believe they were happily engaged. _Gag._ She imagined them being absorbed in their own conversation; one that would have probably been far more pleasant than hers if it really _was _happening.

"How many times do I have to say the chocolate wasn't a bribe?" Any prior cockiness had left his voice.

"Save your breath," she hissed, still whispering. "I don't believe a single word that leaves that pretty boy mouth of y—!" She paused, her blue eyes snapping to the spot their imaginary company was sitting. "S-Sorry?" She paused, as though their company was speaking. "Arguing? Us? Nooooo—Well, sort of. We were just—"

"—just arguing over baby names," Marik ended.

A'isha faked a glare, though it was hardly forced. Then a look of horror crossed her face as she looked at the imaginary company across from her. "What? No! I am definitely _not_ pregnant!" She paused again. "When do we want _kids_?"

She and Marik glanced at one another, before the two spoke simultaneously.

"As soon as possible."

"When hell freezes over!"

A'isha looked at Marik, glaring daggers at his disturbing answer, while he only flashed a taunting smile. They heard the class giggling across the room.

_At least they're enjoying themselves,_ A'isha thought bitterly.

Miss Mutton rose from her seat, clapping heartily, obviously pleased by their performance. The class remained cross-legged on the floor, but joined in on the clapping without hesitation.

"Fantastic acting and improvising, you two!" their teacher exclaimed, grinning from ear-to-ear. "If I didn't know any better, the way you two were arguing so effortlessly, I'd say that was actually rehearsed."

A'isha rolled her eyes. _She has no idea… _The moment that thought had crossed her mind, she caught an amused smirk from the blond on her left.

"Now then," Miss Mutton began, chuckling quietly to herself, "who'd like to go next?"

* * *

Another chapter rewritten...though this is super different from the original writing. But I hope you guys enjoyed it. Oh oh! There was a reference to the AU of this fic (In A Name) that I co-author with **The Duelist's Heiress**! The reference was to the dinner date that we have written a lot of, but have not posted yet. This reference was the prompt they performed in their drama class. Mwahaha! I felt a little bad about the lack of conversation in this chapter, combined with the wall of "brief overview of Ish and Marik's classes"...if that makes any sense at all. But it is necessary to know all about how Marik treats Ish in class, etc. for relationship development purposes. Anywho, the translation below is of Ish's introduction in her French class. Please review! They are greatly appreciated and really make my day that much more awesome!

**Rough Translations**

**Hello everyone. My name is A'isha. I'm sixteen and I'm from Los Angeles, America. My hobbies are dancing and singing and my favourite food is buttered popcorn.


	8. Chapter 7: Amarillo

Hey hey hey, everyone! Yet another chapter of Toying With My Emotions. Where are they all coming from? Sheesh. Maybe I'm just really looking forward to writing fresh stuff instead of rewriting the old chapters, so I'm tackling my way through this like nobody's business? Hmm... I'll go with that. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter!

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**CHAPTER SEVEN  
Amarillo**

Day one of Aisha's new school and it was finally lunch time. Her self-proclaimed tour guide was at her side as they made their way to the cafeteria. He led her through the busy corridors as fellow students went about their business, heading to their regular lunch time spots or rummaging through their lockers, retrieving books for their next subjects. That reminded her...after easing her groaning stomach, she would need to fetch her History and Biology books from her own locker.

_Only two more periods till the torture ends,_ she thought, scowling at her blond company. _Oh wait- after that I get to deal with him during the car ride home...and when I actually get home thanks to his freaky mind powers...and then tomorrow...and the day after that...and the day after—_ She dismissed that thought upon realising how bitter she suddenly felt. Not that she didn't already...

As they approached a particularly busy crowd, A'isha felt a gentle warmth graze her fingertips. A moment later, Marik seized her hand in a firm grip, drawing her close as he weaved them both through the crowd.

She would've ripped her hand from his grasp in an instant, had she not been paranoid that she'd elbow the girl behind her in the face during the process.

And perhaps another part of her was past the point of even caring...at least enough to bother. At this point, it certainly seemed as though her pride had been outweighed by exhaustion; not only from lack of sleep, but because today's events were really beginning to take their toll.

Once they had weaved through the particularly large crowd, a dark chuckle sounded in her mind. /_**What's wrong, My Dear?/**_ His tone was lined with mock guilt. _**/Don't tell me you've already succumbed to the inevitable?/**_

She glared. _The inevitable?_

_**/The realisation that you are powerless against me./  
**_  
A'isha was silent. She didn't even bother to roll her eyes. She refused to find truth in his words, but really…what power did she have over this whole situation? _Nothing_, she caught herself thinking, before reminding herself that he was listening.

_**/Aww…/**_ Marik drawled, feigning compassion. _**/Is this little game just too much for you to handle?/**_

She realised he still held her hand. _What do you think?_ she shot back, eyes narrowed to slits as she ripped her hand from his grasp.

He only smiled, throwing more fuel onto the fierce fire that burned in her brain. He was a great actor, she had to admit…just strolling along and _smiling,_ while inwardly being a total ass! He seemed to be eying her, as though savouring the results of a well-done performance; the result was her unyielding fury, brought forth by his hand.

_**/Regrettably, Dear A'isha,/ **_he finally continued, eying her with laughing eyes,_** /the fun has barely begun./**_ He chuckled quietly to himself as they entered the cafeteria.

The room was bustling with hungry students, some in the line and others at tables. A group was crowded around something a few metres to the left of the entrance, which A'isha quickly recognised as a vending machine.

Marik barely acknowledged the many greetings sent his way as they zigzagged through the crowds. He perhaps offered a small smile or a curt nod here and there. She was rather relieved that he wasn't paying his classmates much mind. If he was being more open, the greeters might run over to talk to him—well, to _them_—and talking to desperate girls and big-headed boys didn't exactly sound appealing to her. Finally, they had reached the long line of students queuing up for their lunch and joined the line.

_How many times have you said something like 'The fun has barely begun' now? I've lost count._

_**/You struggle that much at maths?/**_ he countered, clearly stifling a smirk, no doubt amused by how easy she was to bait.

_You can read minds, can't you?_ _I'm sure you already have your answer._

A small smirk showed on his lips. _**/Naturally./**_ His eyes left hers to examine the food that covered the counter. _**/I must say, all this mind reading has me starved./**_

A'isha's eyes narrowed on him. _That wasn't even remotely funn—_ Her retort was cut short when a sharp pain stabbed at her side. She winced, her hand gripping her now-aching rib out of instinct. Her attention turned to the one responsible for the pain; a rather stocky girl who was busy shoving her way through the line.

She was at least a head taller than A'isha…and at five foot nine, Ish considered herself to be quite tall for a fully-grown female, so this girl was freakishly tall. She was paper white and garbed in gothic attire, mainly black leather garments with silver spikes. Her face was caked with dark makeup and her hair was black, short and spiky; the tips bearing a faint purple sheen beneath the cafeteria's florescent lights.

A'isha watched as the bulky girl continued to force her way to the front of the line. She despised people that use their power to intimidate and overrule others. She minutely realised that description fit the boy beside her perfectly. His power was his ability to read minds; this girl's was her bulky exterior and tough, bad-girl image. Her eyes burned with rage when a petite girl –probably Amara's age– was too slow to move, and the bulky girl thrust her aside, sending the young girl stumbling through a group of wide-eyed students, before she landed back first against the hard floor. That did it.

"Hey you—!" Ish's words were quickly cut short by a tanned hand upon her lips. Before she could process it, her back was against something solid. She soon realised that something was Marik's body.

_**/Don't, A'isha!/ **_Any prior arrogance his voice possessed had been whipped away by panic. _**/Amarillo isn't someone you want to bait—/**_

_Shut up, Marik!_ A'isha hissed, any exhaustion she'd felt had now vanished into thin air; her mind and body now driven by the desire to teach this girl some manners. With all her strength, she pulled herself from his hold. _This cow needs to learn her place!_

A'isha sent a death glare Amarillo's way. The girl was now leaving the line with a tray full of food and a satisfied smirk upon her face. "Hey Tamarillo!" she shouted boldly.

Marik's palm met his temple. _**/It's Amarillo, you fool!/**_ he barked. _**/A tamarillo is a fruit!/**_

A'isha's breath caught in her throat. _I—I knew that,_ she lied, fighting back a blush. She had thought the name seemed a little weird. Thankfully Marik had been the only one to hear her error over the many conversations taking place throughout the room.

"Amarillo!" she corrected, pointing a challenging finger the girl's way. She failed to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

Amarillo had just set her tray upon an empty table. She straightened, spinning on her heel to face the one who dared to address her…and in such a challenging manner.

"You talking to me?" she spat, her voice far deeper than usual for a female. She began to approach A'isha, who still stood near the back of the line. Her steps were slow and deliberate, intending for each step to strike more and more fear into her new potential punching bag. It was working.

The cafeteria had grown deathly silent, aside from a few thrilled whispers and the rushing of lunch staff, the latter no doubt scrambling off in search of help.

"Yes," A'isha replied firmly, eyes boring into Amarillo's steel grey ones. "I am."

"Oh really?" Amarillo was only a few feet from her smaller schoolmate. "And what exactly did you want?" she pressed, eyes narrowing to slits on the slightly shaking girl before her.

"What makes you think you can just barge in here and shove your way to the front of the line?" Her eyes flickered to the petite girl still cowering on the floor, tears staining her cheeks and making the skin glisten beneath the florescent lights. Her eyes met Amarillo's once more. "Why are you more important than anyone else here?" She gestured around the room. "Huh?"

If looks could kill, A'isha would be half way to the nearest morgue by now. "Everyone here is afraid of me," she growled, towering over Ish at barely an arm's length away. "You should follow their lead."

"Afraid of you?" A'isha laughed dryly. "A girl whose name rhymes with a fruit?"

Behind her, Marik narrowly avoided another face-palm. Of all the things A'isha could bait Amarillo about, it had to be the thing that peeved her off the most.

"Name it," Amarillo dared.

"What?"

"Name the fruit."

"Tamarillo."

Amarillo chortled quietly at this…and a moment later that sound had turned into a fit of near-uncontrollable laughter. "Ah…Tamarillo…" she murmured, lightly shouldering A'isha in a manner that could almost pass for _playful_. "That's a good one."

A'isha was on edge, realising that she knew nothing about Amarillo's approach to these situations. Was this the calm before the storm?

Her answer was quickly answered when, a moment later, a fist hurled her way, heading straight for her face. Her mind went blank, eyes widening in disbelief; but a moment later, relief washed over her, spreading its warmth through her visibly trembling form. A tanned fist had wrapped around Amarillo's pale one.

"M-Marik!" Amarillo stuttered, her face growing paler than A'isha thought possible. "Wh-What are you—"

"Hitting a face as pretty as Dear A'isha's wouldn't be very nice," Marik interrupted, throwing her fist back her way. "Now would it?"

Amarillo sent a dark glare his way, then tried to shove past him towards A'isha, making Ish take a few steps back out of instinct. But Amarillo failed, and was sent stumbling into a nearby table at Marik's hand, sending trays full of food spiralling across the room and onto the floor.

"My meatloaf!" one guy had the gall to cry out. Luckily her rage wasn't set on him.

"How sweet of you, Marik," she spat as she regained her composure. "Protecting your stupid little _girlfriend_?" She approached him and A'isha once more, the latter now hiding behind Marik, feeling an odd sense of security behind the blond boy…a feeling she refused to consider any further…along with the fact that Marik seemed to be standing almost _protectively_ in front of her, shielding her from the fuming tank ahead that seemed to be stalking them as a lioness stalks its prey.

"Leave her alone, Amarillo."

"This doesn't concern you, Blondie," she growled, now standing before them once more. "So step aside." Despite the girl's strong demeanour, A'isha was near-certain she could detect fear swimming within her grey eyes.

His expression was firm. "I won't let you harm her."

"Step. Aside."

"Need I remind you of the last time you tested me?" A cocky smirk revealed itself when Amarillo's shivering strengthened. "There's a reason it's been six years since you did."

Amarillo's trembling was now painfully obvious, leaving A'isha wondering exactly what occurrenceMarik _was_ referring to. The bulky girl was silent as she turned on her heel, a six-year-old memory driving the action. She was met by several hundred pairs of eyes, staring on in utter disbelief. Was Amarillo really backing down? She froze, her hands suddenly curling into fists. No… She wasn't… She spun to face Marik.

"MOVE IT, YOU COCKY LITTLE BASTARD!" she roared, hurling a fist his way. He dodged it, yes… however, not before she had reached her true target.

A'isha's eyes went wide, her heart pounding, twisted by unyielding fear as Amarillo's fist lashed through the air. All too quickly, a splitting pain sliced through her head. A sharp cry left her lips. Everything spun. Her vision blurred. A voice screamed her name…a voice she knew. And before she'd even met the floor, everything faded to black.

* * *

A'isha came about slowly. The first thing she felt was the faint, repetitive pounding of her skull. The second was the blanket between her fingers. As sleep's aftereffects faded, she was sourly greeted by a more pronounced pounding skull, waves of pain shooting through her head and making her groan.

"A'isha?" a familiar voice murmured.

"Wghhh…" she mumbled groggily. The word 'what' had made more sense in her head.

"Are you awake?"

She pried her eyes apart, squinting as they adjusted to the blinding light of wherever she was.

"You are." Her vision cleared to find her squinting into a pair of familiar amethyst eyes. "It's about time."

"What?" The word had more clarity than her last attempt. She raised a brow, then wished she hadn't as her headache worsened, the pain originating at a spot on her temple. Her hand reached for the spot out of instinct. Her mood soured as her fingertips ran over a particularly large bump above her left brow. "How did—" She stopped herself, quickly recalling the events of the cafeteria. _Th-That tank knocked me out cold!_ she realised, succumbing to dread and disbelief. _Greaaat. Now I'm probably the talk of the school._

"You were saying?" Marik spoke up, arching a brow as he eyed her inquisitively.

A'isha levelled herself into a sitting position upon the bed she occupied, a single bed with two on her left that looked just like it. A door was opposite her bed, while a wooden shelf stood opposite the first bed on her left. Marik occupied a chair on her right, nestled away in the corner of the room. "Oh great. Don't tell me this is the sickbay and that I'm here because that crazy tank flunked out of anger management class?" she barked, fists curling at her sides, her knuckles quickly going white.

"I see your powers of perception weren't hindered by your new friend," he stirred, earning a glare from the girl. "I considered showing you this place on our little tour this morning, but it seems you managed to find it on your own anyway."

"Why do I feel like you've been sitting here in anticipation since I got here, waiting for me to wake up purely so you could say those two remarks and savour the reaction they got?"

He only smirked. Answer enough.

"Typical," she groaned.

"I must say, you're making quite an impression on your teachers and fellow classmates—picking a fight on your first day."

"Greaaat," she drawled, slumping back into her pillow; then wincing as the action riled her headache. She gingerly brushed her hand across her temple, inspecting the blow through sense of touch. Luckily her bangs would hide most of the bump from sight…and concealer would fix most of the discolouration from the bruising. At least, she _assumed_ there was bruising. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "You blocked her." It was a statement more than a question. "How did you know?"

He reclined into his chair with a soft sigh. "Do I really need to remind you, Ish?"

"Don't call me Ish," she growled, eyes narrowing on the teen. Then realisation hit. "You read her mind, didn't you?"

"Again, your powers of perception are remarkable."

A'isha ignored the sarcasm. "You've read her mind before, haven't you?"

Marik straightened at this. "What gives you that idea?"

"I saw fear in her eyes when you interfered," she murmured, eyes dropping to the white bed sheet as she absently toyed with the fabric. "And you asked if you needed to remind her of the last time she'd tested you… You said there was a reason it had been six years since she did." Her eyes left the sheet to meet his. "So what happened six years ago?"

"Nothing that concerns you," he dismissed, flashing a glare that seemed like a defence mechanism more than anything else.

A'isha scowled. She knew pressing for information would be a lost cause. Instead, she continued with the next question that currently racked her brain. "If you won't tell me that, then at least tell me this… How _do_ you read minds?"

A frown etched across Marik's lips as he considered her question. A moment passed and A'isha failed to notice his tanned hand slowly inching towards his backpack, slumped on the floor against one leg of his chair.

Suddenly, an acute beep sounded through a speaker fixed into the wall above him, making them both freeze. A woman's voice blared through the speaker. Her tone was brief and direct; "Marik Ishtar, can you please come to the Administration Office. I repeat, Marik Ishtar, please come to the Administration Office. "

Marik drew his hand to his side, inhaling deeply as he forced an arrogant smirk. "It seems I am required elsewhere." He eased out a sigh of relief as, in one fluid motion, he swept up his bag and slung it over one shoulder. He approached the door coolly; however, A'isha's next words made him freeze, if only for a moment.

"You're avoiding my question."

Marik's eyes narrowed as he turned to face her, his expression twisted into one of mock kindness—his specialty. "I'll check up on you later, Ish," he reassured her with that increasingly annoying sweet smile, "But right now, my presence is required elsewhere."

With that said, Marik left her to stew over both his words and his mock kindness, relieved that the speaker had interrupted them. Had he really been about to expose the item that granted him this power? If she knew how this was all possible, this wouldn't be nearly as fun…not at this stage anyway. No, he'd rather keep her guessing...and fussing over how such a feat was even possible. He did plan to tell her eventually; however, this was only day three of their little game.

Five minutes later found Marik calmly entering the school office for the second time that day; the first had been with A'isha, who had desperately sought out a copy of her timetable. He barely withheld a smirk, recalling the disappointment that had swept across her face when the woman had said the information was nowhere to be found.

His eyes fell upon a young woman behind a large desk. "Mister Ishtar," she addressed, the worry in her tone evident upon her face. "I heard you were in a fight."

As he came to a standstill before her desk, he let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Actually, Miss Dewberry, it was more along the lines of helping out a friend."

The woman smiled. "Now that makes more sense."

He returned the smile. "She's in the sickbay recovering. Amarillo did quite a number on her."

"Oh dear," Miss Dewberry cried as a hand covered her mouth. "Getting into a fight with Amarillo is basically like _asking_ for fifty stitches."

Marik nodded curtly. "I agree," he murmured, his words strewn with mock worry.

"Best wishes to your friend."

"I'll tell her," he lied.

Miss Dewberry nodded, and then spun on her office chair to gesture to a door on her right that read 'Academic Advisor – Mister Vallis' in big, bold letters. "Now then, I believe Mister Vallis wants to see you.

"Very well. Thank you, Miss Dewberry." With those words done and dusted, Marik coolly made his way to Mister Vallis' door, not at all deterred by whatever laid beyond it. If he was in trouble for the scuffle in the cafeteria, it was nothing a little…_persuasion_…couldn't fix.

Marik stopped at the door, proceeding to knock thrice upon its mahogany surface.

"Come in," a warm voice welcomed.

He complied, reaching for the silver doorknob and easing the door aside. His false smile returned right as the door parted to reveal his tanned face to Mister Vallis, seated behind a desk across the room.

"Ah, Mister Ishtar." The advisor smiled up at him, setting down his piping hot cup of coffee. Steam floated up from the beverage; then faded into nothing as it was greedily absorbed by the atmosphere. "I hadn't expected you so quickly." He gestured to the seat across from him, the desk separating the two objects. "I assumed that with your girlfriend in the sick bay, you would take your time." Marik stifled a smirk at the way he'd addressed A'isha—'your _girlfriend_'. That rumour was spreading even quicker than he'd first anticipated. He barely resisted a chuckle...Ish was sure to lose it when she found out.

Marik showed a smile in place of a smirk. "I would have stayed longer, but I'm certain that Ish is in great hands, Sir." He threaded his fingers, then set his elbows upon the older man's desk. His chin rested upon his knuckles as he continued, "I doubt my sister would be pleased if I neglected a meeting concerning my education."

Mister Vallis nodded. "Well let's get right down to it then." He reached out for his computer mouse. "Because you have passed our highest Maths class with such respectable marks, you should have that period free." The soft clicks of the mouse met Marik's ears as the man sought out something on the computer. Marik couldn't see the screen. "The problem is that at this school free periods are not, under any circumstances, permitted for an eleventh grader."

"You're wanting to offer an alternative?" Marik asked with an inquisitive raise of his brow.

"Yes, Marik, I do." He straightened in his office chair. "How would you feel about taking on the role of a teacher aid in one of the two lower math classes of your grade level?" He smiled, thrilled to have such an intelligent student here at Alexandria High; this was the first time he'd made an offer like this to a student. "I know Mister Newton or Missus Smith would be thrilled to have your assistance at hand."

Marik succeeded in suppressing a scheming smirk. "I'd love an opportunity such as this." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his visage. "Though perhaps I could assist a higher class?" He already knew the answer to that question. That knowledge made his eyes narrow. _But that's where my skills at persuasion come into effect._

Mister Vallis frowned as confusion chiselled its way into his mind. "But Mister Ishtar, why would you want to assist those in a higher class when there are clearly students who struggle far more in the subject? They would better benefi—"

With no preamble, Mister Vallis' words ceased, his eyes suddenly void of any and all expression as an eerie eye emerged upon his temple, glowing menacingly against his tanned skin.

A menacing smirk snaked across Marik's lips. "You were saying, _Sir_?" His smirk grew as the title rolled off his tongue.

Mister Vallis' voice was almost mechanical, drained of all emotion as he spoke; "What class do you suggest, Mister Ishtar?"

"Class C would be just…_perfect_."

* * *

Dang Marik, give the girl a break! She just got pummelled by a psychopath for Pete's sake! Heh. I really like to torture my OCs, I must admit. FYI, this ain't the last you see of Amarillo. Bet you're wondering what happened between her and Marik six years ago... Mwahaha! :P Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please R&R. :)


	9. Chapter 8: Haunted By The Past

Holy smag! Another update! Where are all these things coming from? I'm not even kidding any more... Seriously... Anywho, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, faved or alerted this story... and to all you guys who simply read it too. I really appreciate it! Now then, please enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**CHAPTER EIGHT  
Haunted By The Past**

Marik stifled a satisfied smirk as he left Mister Vallis' office. He hadn't anticipated the offer to undertake the role of a Maths teacher aid, but he welcomed it regardless. He had decided on goading Dear A'isha from the library during his free period, but now that a far simpler and more appealing alternative had been handed to him so seamlessly, he needn't waste his energy.

He remembered his prior promise to check up on Ish later, when he had left her maybe fifteen minutes ago. _I guess I'll be seeing her even sooner than I thought. _A small smirk flirted across his lips as he past Miss Dewberry's desk, heading towards the exit. _I'm sure she'll be absolutely thrill—_

An abrupt noise seized his attention. He glanced over his shoulder. Amarillo had slammed a door shut behind her and stormed out into the admin office. The door was two to the left of Mister Vallis'—the principal's office. Amethyst met steel grey, and the girl froze merely five feet from him.

_**/Is that fear I see in your eyes?/**_ Marik taunted, satisfied upon seeing her stiffen. _**/I see memory serves you well, Tamarillo./**_

She directed no thoughts his way…not even concerning his mockery of her name…but he could hear her mind racing, replaying a six-year-old memory that made her tremble. The memory stirred a myriad of feelings in his mind too; feelings of loneliness, self-pity, helplessness and rage...feelings swept away by newly found power, satisfaction and deranged delight. Amarillo finally sent a thought his way, lurching him back to the present.

_Y-You still have that th-thing…_

Marik ignored the statement. _**/I recall stating that the next time you crossed me, I would not be so lenient./**_ His smirk grew. _**/Fortunately you've caught me on a good day./**_ His visage became serious. _**/But next time you will not be so fortunate./**_

Amarillo was silent for a moment, fearfully processing his words, then; _That new girl… Wh-What are you doing to her?_

His eyes narrowed dangerously. _**/Nothing that concerns you./**_ With that, Marik calmly swept through the exit and out into a corridor. Fourth period had clearly come and gone, as the corridor was no longer empty; but bustling with students that passed him by, chattering animatedly amongst themselves as they headed to their fifth and final subject of the day. Marik headed in the direction of the sickbay; he knew he could avoid History with ease, just as he'd avoided Bio—

A sudden vibration in his pants pocket made him straighten. That had certainly been unexpected; he rarely left his phone switched on during class, even on silent. Perhaps he'd forgotten the daily ritual amidst all the excitement of messing with Dear Little Ish.

He coolly withdrew the device, a sleek iPhone securely placed in a dark purple case; his favourite colour. _A text from Elissa...Perhaps she's concerned for her dear niece…_ He chuckled to himself, ignoring greetings from classmates that passed him by, as he opened the text with a single swipe of his finger across the screen.

_'Good afternoon, Marik. Elissa here. I know this is a lot to ask of you, but as Ahad and I are both working late tonight, I was hoping you could look after A'isha at your house tonight. Ahad should be home around eight. I've asked Amara to get a ride home with one of her friends. I would ask your brother or sister, but of course you know they're working too and I don't want to interrupt. Ahad and I would really appreciate it! :)'_

A grin plastered itself on his face. Things were really in his favour today. He swiftly typed up his reply:

_'Hello, Elissa. I'd be happy to help. You can work assured that your niece is in excellent hands. M.I.'_

Marik chortled softly. _Excellent hands, indeed._

* * *

Marik had left no more than twenty minutes ago and now A'isha could hear a heap of conversations all mingling into one perhaps a few walls away from the room she occupied. _I wonder how long I was out for… Are students going home or to their next class? _She pursed her lips. It was safe to assume she'd missed fourth period, and she should've been pleased, but really it only soured her mood further. Missing Biology today just meant she'd have more work to catch up on…plus her classmates would no doubt think Amarillo had done such a number on her that she couldn't even make it to her next class. The truth to that thought only made her feel worse.

A'isha sighed, realising her hold on the ice pack pressed to her forehead had wavered slightly. She remedied that quickly, pressing it harder against the bump. The school nurse had said she had a slight concussion, but nothing that time and a few early nights couldn't fix. A'isha should've been pleased, but she found her bitter side wishing that she'd needed stitches or something so that Amarillo's punishment would be that much more severe. "I hope that nutcase gets suspended," she hissed under her breath, glaring daggers at the door opposite her bed as she wondered how in the world the loon hadn't been already.

_The pain will be worth it if that nut _does_ get suspended,_ she thought with a sly smirk. The expression left instantly as an image of Marik's mocking smirk flashed through her mind. Thinking of Mister High and Mighty, A'isha mulled over whether or not Marik would really return to check up on her. She hoped not. Her headache was bad enough without that jerk around…and she was really appreciating actually having her mind all to herself.

A'isha was drawn from her thoughts by the door easing open ahead of her. A meek girl who looked to be about her age slipped into the room, gently closing the door behind her as she sent a warm smile A'isha's way. She returned the smile as she examined the brunette curiously; she didn't look ill or injured… What was she doing here?

The girl's hair was straight and drawn back into a ponytail. A few freckles were splashed across the bridge of her nose, the flecks only enhanced by her pale complexion. She was clothed in a navy blue skirt that brushed against her ankles, along with a white tank top that read 'Miss Naughty' in bold, blue letters. Her outfit was completed with a sleeveless blue cardigan and black, leather slip-on shoes.

"Hello there," A'isha greeted, watching as the girl slipped into the seat that Marik had earlier occupied. She placed her bag beneath the seat, and then looked up at A'isha through a pair of metallic purple glasses.

"Hi," she replied, revealing a friendly smile.

For a long moment, all was silent, save for the crinkling of plastic as A'isha adjusted the ice pack against her head.

The girl finally spoke up; "You're very brave…"

A'isha blinked twice. "Why?" she blurted out. "Because I stood up to that tank?"

The girl snickered behind her hand. "Well that's a new name for the lovely Tamarillo!" Her smile didn't waver as she continued, "And yes, I was referring to the cafeteria incident."

A'isha sighed. "Well I don't feel so brave now… More along the lines of foolish." She laughed, though there was no real joy to the sound. "I'm A'isha, by the way." She forced a small smile. "But you can call me Ish. It's way easier."

"I'm Juliette Lilly Anne Hughes." The girl raised a friendly hand, which A'isha took without qualms, shaking it thrice before her hand returned to absently toy with the bed sheet. "F.Y.I., Lilly Anne _isn't _my middle name." She smiled. "I go by Julie though."

A'isha flashed a genuine smile. "Do I even _want_ to know your middle name?"

"Correction; middle _names_." She chuckled. "And no, you really don't wanna know. Even _I_ still get mixed up."

A'isha beamed at Julie, the girl's presence alone filling her with joy and relief. Someone actually wanted to talk to her…and Marik isn't around to screw things up!

"Anyway," Julie began, taking on a more serious tone, "how are you holding up?"

A'isha chewed on her bottom lip. "Does…_everyone _know about the cafeteria incident?" She felt she already knew the answer.

Julie suddenly found the floor very interesting. "…Well…"

A'isha stiffened, a look of horror twisting her features. "Noooo," she moaned, dropping the ice pack only to grip her head in despair, shaking it furiously. "Oh no no no no _no_!" Her eyes met Julie's, compassion swimming within the brunette girl's chocolate brown orbs. "Please tell me you're kidding?"

"Sorry," Julie breathed, guilt underlying her tone. "I'm not one to lie."

A'isha groaned, self-pity etching its way into her brain…but Julie shouldn't apologise…and she didn't deserve to hear A'isha's impending rant about how miserable her life felt at this moment in time: Marik hounding her in her mind; Amarillo knocking her out cold; Amara being an absolute cow; her parents' untimely passing; and…and—

A'isha shook her head frantically, using every ounce of self-control she possessed to stifle tears that threatened to show, pounding against her eyes and heightening the pain of her ever-growing headache. She couldn't think about that night; yet how could she think about anything else?

She missed them so much. She missed her father's goofy personality, always eager to make her laugh, even if he looked like a complete moron in the process…and yet he'd always been there to offer kind words and remind her of the faith he had in his only child. She missed her mother's free spirit and caring nature…she always knew what to say to ease A'isha's nerves, reminding her that there was a silver lining around every corner…that everything happened for a reason… Her hands curled into fists at her sides, trembling ever so slightly. If everything happened for a reason, then what had her parents possibly done to deserve such an untimely demise? What reason could possibly justify snatching such warm and gentle spirits from this life?

A warmth upon her fist snapped A'isha from her thoughts. Her eyes dropped to her hand to find Julie's resting on top of it. "Hey…" Julie drawled, genuine concern in her tone. "Are you okay?"

A'isha's lip quivered, but she refused to let her grief show in the form of tears…not at school…and not with someone else around. "I…I'm fine," she murmured solemnly.

Julie didn't look convinced, but she didn't press it. After all, the girl barely knew her. "Okay…" She suddenly perked up, perhaps hoping she'd thought of a way to cheer A'isha up. "You know…I think Marik likes you!" she stated animatedly, grinning over at the now bug-eyed girl.

"Wh-What?" A'isha stuttered, her eyebrows half way up her temple. "Ha! What gave you _that _idea?" she shrieked, showing a look that was somewhere between horror and hilarity. "Marik _hates_ me!"

"Are you _sure_?" Julie's grin grew. "Because when you were knocked out he was _really _worried…"

A'isha barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He would've been acting, of course… embracing the role of the panicking friend, fretting like mad over his new friend's well-being.

Julie continued; "When Amarillo knocked you out, Marik screamed your name."

Shock flashed across A'isha's face for a split-second… She _did_ remember someone shouting her name, merely seconds before she'd fallen unconscious. It…had been _Marik_.

"And after Amarillo marched off all smugly, he just stood there and stared at you for about ten seconds. Then he finally sprinted to your side, shooing away the crowd that had formed around you and demanding that they give you some space." Julie's grin was now stretched from ear-to-ear. "Then he picked you up and carried you here." She squealed at the mere memory, no doubt believing Marik's reaction to be absolutely adorable. "Trust me when I say he was soooo darn sweet."

A'isha laughed, sounding drier than two week old toast. "Julie… _'sweet'_ cannot be used in the same sentence as _'Marik'_ unless the word _'isn't'_ is in between them." And yet, why did she find herself wishing Marik's actions _had_ held some sincerity. _Of course I want him to be nice to me,_ she reasoned, then dismissed the ridiculous thought.

Julie shrugged nonchalantly. "Okay… You don't have to believe me." Her words held no spite. Only calm acceptance. "Anyway, I'm gonna have to leave you now." She flashed a sheepish grin as she scooped up her bag and scurried over to the exit. "I'm kinda late for band and I'm the trumpet lead."

A'isha's eyes went wide. Had Julie risked getting in trouble with her teacher for being tardy _just _to visit a total stranger? She smiled, flattered by the gesture. Julie had the potential to be a well-valued friend. "Okay then," she replied. "Thank you for visiting me. I feel _a lot_ better." And though those words were true, she still felt miserable. "I…I guess I'll be seeing you around?"

Julie nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely!" She waved as she opened the door a fraction. "It was nice to meet you!"

"Right back at you," A'isha returned, returning the friendly wave.

She watched as the girl slid through the exit, not bothering to open the door entirely as she did. She paid little mind to the meek, "Oh, excuse me," that met her ears as the girl left her sight. She assumed it was the nurse returning to check up on her. That is, until an unmistakeable voice replied, "Of course, Julie."

_So he wasn't lying, _A'isha thought, huffing as she slumped against the bed frame, arms across her chest. The thought had barely presented itself when Sir Jerk-A-Lot appeared. The first thing she noticed was the thrilled smirk he wore. _This can't be good,_ she thought, already dreading his impending words.

"What's with that look?" Marik pouted. "Aren't you happy to see me, My Dear Ish?"

"Why are you here?" she barked. After such a civil conversation with Julie, she'd forgotten how tiring it was to force a glare.

Marik's mock pout was swept away by another strenuous smirk. "Well, My Dear," he began, reclaiming his former seat in the corner, still warm from its previous occupant, "I'm pleased to tell you that, as you're concussed and unfit for class, I've been permitted the pleasure of driving you home."

A'isha slumped against the bed frame even more, if that was possible. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, her body growing rigid with fear. Her next words were barely given voice, muttered bitterly under her breath, "Soon I won't be the only one with a concussion…" It was a miserable attempt at avoiding the terror that had suddenly gripped her without even a sliver of mercy. Sure, she'd been alone with Marik in his room yesterday, having gone over to apologise for that ignorant comment…but now that she knew what he was capable of, the thought of being alone with the creep was terrifying. She knew nothing about him or how severely he was willing to torture her.

"There is no way in hell I'm going _anywhere_ with the likes of _you_!" she hissed, her head now aching more than ever thanks to the strain that now weighed down her trembling form. She rubbed the ache behind her ear; then straightened when rushed footsteps sounded nearby.

"Is everything okay, Miss Dahar?" a gentle voice intervened, making A'isha glance up at the doorway. The nurse, a middle-aged woman, was peering around the door, concern etched across her face as she examined the two teenagers before her. "Is Mister Ishtar bothering you?" she asked, sending a pointed look his way.

A'isha noticed the look the nurse was giving him. Oh, she liked this woman.

"Everything is fine, Miss Everett," Marik reassured her, flashing a charming smile the woman's way. A smile that really made Ish's blood boil.

Miss Everett was unfazed by his charm. "That question was directed at A'isha, Mister Ishtar."

"Miss Everett," he began calmly, hiding his frustration well, "A'isha's caregivers have asked me to take care of her in their place, because they—"

"I'm sorry, Mister Ishtar," she interrupted with a frown, failing to notice the teen's eyes narrow as a silent response. "But as school policy states, only a parent or legal guardian may withdraw a student from—" She stopped mid-sentence, her blue eyes glazing over as a mysterious eye glowed upon her tanned temple, concealed behind her fringe.

"Go on, Miss Everett…" Marik murmured, offering a clueless expression that many would describe as cute.

Miss Everett's voice was grated as she continued, "You have been instructed to take care of her by her caregivers?"

"I have."

A'isha looked over the woman in clear confusion. This didn't make any sense… The nurse had just been acting suspicious of him and now she was suddenly considering throwing A'isha into his creepy little clutches…not to mention her voice was suddenly eerily different. Was there more to his inexplicable mind powers than what she'd already witnessed?

"Then I'll happily sign Miss Dahar out right now."

* * *

Marik smirked triumphantly as he swept down the steps that extended from the school building to the car park. A'isha's sulky stomps sounding behind him confirmed that she was close in tow. An outraged growl met his ears, only amusing him further.

A'isha remembered Julie's statement back in the sickbay—'I think Marik likes you!' The idea was quickly beginning to make sense…that is, if he was one of those immature little boys that annoyed the snot outta the girl they liked…though with that in mind, acting like _this_ was _way _beyond the norm for a guy crushing on a girl. He was reading and talking to her in her mind, not to mention he'd treated her this way from the moment they'd met. He'd had no _time _to crush on her. No…his intentions must've been purely one dimensional; a mind-warped freak who got some sort of sick satisfaction out of another's suffering. _He's just a maniacal sadist._

"What the hell is your problem?" A'isha growled, quickening her pace to keep up with him. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, silently waiting for her to catch up. "Why do you find me so freaking interesting, huh?" she barked, shoving him once, unsatisfied when he barely budged. "You-You perverted freak of nature!" She flung her arms left and right, further stressing her frustration through her body. "Why do you get such sick enjoyment out of torturing a girl you barely even know? I've done absolutely _nothing_ to you!"

Marik raised a brow in obvious amusement. "You think I'm a pervert?" A laugh followed the question.

"Yes!" she shrieked, launching her arms in the air for added emphasis. "You pervert situations to suit your perverted desire, which apparently is _torturing_ me! So YES, congratulations, you've officially been dubbed a PERVERT!"

He revealed a mad smile, only infuriating her ten-fold. "The definition of the word pervert has many variations. It can be used to describe a person who leads another astray, misdirects one from what is just, or corrupts the victim's feeble mind in any way, shape or form. As a noun, it refers to an individual whose sexual behaviour is abnormal or unacceptable." His mad smile stretched. "With those definitions in mind; yes, perhaps I am a pervert…provided you are excluding the noun's definition, that is."

"Thanks for the English lesson, Professor," she muttered, folding her arms, "Oh, and I wouldn't be so sure about excluding the noun's definition."

Marik's eyes narrowed dangerously on her. She froze, unease seizing her within its unyielding grasp as he coolly closed the little distance between them. His hot breath fanned across her face, making her shudder. That unease warped into sheer panic when his arm encircled her waist. She placed her trembling hands between them, pushing against his chest in a futile attempt to free herself, but his hold was as definite as her fear.

"Th-This is only proving me right!" The words held far less authority than she'd hoped for.

Marik smirked at her…seeming as though he were looming over her shaking form despite the fact he was maybe an inch taller than her, if that. "My Dear A'isha," he breathed, "I have an idea in mind that would earn me a title far more extreme than that of a pervert."

A'isha stiffened as his words sunk in, paling at the implication. Her trembling was uncontrollable. "You…You wouldn't…" she breathed, the words barely given voice.

A'isha sucked in a gasp as Marik gripped her shoulders, shoving her against the nearest car and holding her there. If her voice hadn't been painfully lodged in her throat by despair, her memory set two weeks in the past, she would've surely screamed out by now, desperate to be free of this madman and his crazy mind games.

A'isha shook her head violently in a useless attempt to banish the sinister memories. The shaky wall that was her pride came crashing down, succumbing to unbearable anguish. "P-Please," she whimpered. "_Please stop…_"

His smirk vanished as confusion replaced arrogance. He hadn't expected her to become so submissive…at least not this quickly. It was like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.

A'isha failed to notice a dull glow peek through the material of Marik's backpack. His eyes went wide, his grip ceasing entirely as he slowly backed away from the still-shaking girl. His expression was unreadable as he drew in a deep breath. He proceeded to turn on his heel, the movement stiff...nothing like she'd seen before from the teen. Since they'd met, he'd always moved so suavely, so seamlessly. "Come on, A'isha," he murmured softly…gently even. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Phoo wee! I wrote this all today and I'm now hard at work on the next chapter! There were two chapters after this that I needed to rewrite, but now I've decided to take another route for those scenes, meaning from here on out I'm no longer rewriting this fic...but _actually_ writing fresh stuff! YAY SO EXCITING! :D As usual, please R&R! :)


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